


Purity regained

by Ohdarlingifonlyyouknew



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood Kink, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Dean, Dark Castiel, Dark Dean Winchester, Dark Sam Winchester, Demon Blood Addiction, Depression, Depresssing and degrading thoughts, Destiel - Freeform, Dubious Consent, M/M, Multi, Sibling Incest, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Top Castiel, Top Dean, Torture, Wincest - Freeform, Wincestiel - free form
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 18:15:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 25
Words: 34,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2591375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ohdarlingifonlyyouknew/pseuds/Ohdarlingifonlyyouknew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-S9. Cas has finally lost the remains of his stolen Grace, but unlike the show seems to hint at, he didn't die but Fell like Anna, losing his memory with it. When we (and demon!Dean) first see him, he's a drunk. After a violent outburst at the bar, Cas decides to go with Dean. This is only the start of something very dark... Destiel slash, one chapter of Wincest and some Wincestiel after (one or two chapters, so not that much, it is a shame, I know).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: My second fanfic. And it will become very dark. I don't know where it'll go or how it'll end yet, but it'll be dark. If it turns out there's a new trigger warning, I'll let you know. For now, if you can't handle violence and blood, then don't read. (But hey, you watch Supernatural, so I guess you should be fine :) )
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.

"Hello darling. Fancy seeing you here."

Castiel looked up from his glass of beer. A man in a tattered leather jacket stood next to him, a grin flashing on his face.

Castiel frowned. "Do I know you?"

The man's smile faltered. "Oh come on, don't be like that. We haven't seen each other for a while, but I thought it beneath you to actually pretend not to know me."

Castiel just kept frowning. The man finally seemed to realise that he truly didn't recognise him. "Oh." Castiel gave a small nod. "Good night."

But instead of taking the hint and leaving, the man sat himself down next to him. "Scotch please." Castiel cringed a little when his obnoxious neighbour turned towards him. "So, what's your name?" "Castiel," he answered, immediately scolding himself for it. Somehow this answer seemed to make the man tense and relieved at the same time. He stuck out his hand, "Dean."

Castiel stared at the hand for a moment, then shook it carefully, but with a firm grip. Tonight seemed to be a night full of contradictions and opposites.

"So, Castiel, can I get you something stronger?" Castiel frowned. The tripping over his name hadn't gone unnoticed, but Dean's facial expression didn't give anything away. So he shrugged. The way things were going, he might need it.

"Have we met before? Have I forgotten you?" Dean seemed to flinch at this question. Castiel had always been very direct. He didn't like wasting time with idle babbling. But the other man quickly regained himself, once again looking as if nothing had happened. "Nah, I must've taken you for someone else."

Dean gave the bartender a signal to give them another tumbler and the whole bottle of Scotch. Castiel frowned, but didn't comment. After all, he had agreed to it, hadn't he? He started to think it might not have been his brightest idea. Something about Dean felt… off. Something in his grin, in the way he moved and talked, something in the way he covered up all the feelings that seemed to show on his face. Dean was hiding something. Something dark.

He quickly downed his drink, wincing at the burn it caused. He was used to beer. But today had been tiring, and he welcomed the alcohol softly humming in his veins.

"So, Cas. You ever hear voices?" Castiel spluttered and choked on his drink, causing him to nearly cough his lungs out, his face scarlet. Dean simply chuckled softly.

When he finally got his breath back, he gave Dean a furious glare. "No, I have never heard voices. And even if I would've, it would be none of your goddamn business." Dean flinched again, but his reaction seemed to be caused by Castiel's swearing for some reason. But again, Dean immediately looked as if it had never happened.

Castiel frowned, suddenly realising something. "You called me Cas." Dean shrugged. "So? Hope you don't mind." Castiel huffed. Oh sure, as if Dean cared about causing offence.

The man downed his drink and stood up, which made Castiel frown even more. "Where are you going?" Not that he minded Dean leaving, he couldn't care less.

Dean laughed, his voice gruff. "Why, 'fraid you'll miss me?" Castiel wanted to react, but Dean simply shook his head. "Don't worry, darling. I spy with my little eye a karaoke machine, and I intend to rock the shit out of it. Keep my seat warm, will ya!"

He sprinted to the little stage as if he feared someone would beat him to it, leaving Castiel confused and angry. The nicknames, the assumption that Castiel would do as Dean asked. Honestly, what the fuck? The nerve of that guy!

So Castiel shot Dean the most furious glares he had ever mustered up, while throwing his legs over the barstool next to him, not allowing his mind to even raise its eyebrows at it. In the meantime, Dean seemed completely unperturbed at the looks he was receiving, both from Castiel as well as people in the audience, who had obviously been hoping for a quiet evening in the bar.

He grinned. This place really needed some shaking up, the people clearly had sticks so far up their asses they could scratch their brains with it.

He pressed a button, and Eye of the Tiger blared through the bar.

Castiel winced. He'd been supporting a headache, and truth be told he'd never been able to hold his liquor all that well, which really wasn't helping. The other drinkers didn't seem happy either; sadly their comments about piping it down or even pulling the plug on the karaoke machine only seemed to encourage Dean.

It wasn't that he was bad or anything. He wasn't all that bad actually. A little off-key, but the gruffness in his voice matched the genre perfectly. It was just loud. And way too annoying.

When the song ended, the ones who had been loudly booing were now shouting "thank fuck that's over". And though Castiel agreed, he immediately noticed something was horribly wrong. They just made the biggest mistakes of their lives.

Dean straightened up a little, the cocky grin that had been plastered across his face making place for a small, terrifyingly cold smile.

He took a step forward. "Oh really," he said softly.

His eyes turned black.

His eyes turned black.

Castiel couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. Everything inside him was screaming to run, to get out. Instead he was frozen in place, his legs still draped over the other barstool.

Suddenly, Dean pulled out a… knife? It looked like the jawbone of a horse, with a carved handle and a sharpened blade. It didn't matter what it was exactly, though. It only mattered what Dean would do with it.

And right now he was slicing the throat of the guy who had spoken out.

Panic erupted in the small bar. The two women in the corner screamed while everyone stood up and scrambled for the exit, only to be faced with a door slamming shut in front of them.

Where Dean had moved as quickly as a snake at first, he now walked slowly and confidently towards the small group.

Castiel knew what was coming.

He knew and he still didn't move. Or couldn't. Could he? His mind was pointing out small things about himself and Dean, things he couldn't care less about, unimportant things. Maybe that's what it does when you're about to die, he thought to himself. It ignores the fact that you might be dead in a minute and focuses on unimportant details to protect itself.

Dean had finally reached the small crowd. Some begged, some cried silently. One guy tried grabbing his cell phone, but this simply made Dean laugh. With a flick of his hand the phone skittered across the floor.

He raised the knife.

Castiel's brain finally tuned out.

He saw, but didn't register. Heard, but didn't listen.

The gurgled screams didn't reach his consciousness. The blood that splattered and flowed was nothing but a smudge on his retina.

And then, suddenly, it was over.

Dean was standing next to him, wiping his knife on the shirt of the bartender who was still standing, trembling with fear. Dean simply flicked his wrist and the guy's neck snapped.

He grabbed the bottle of Scotch, taking a big swig out of it, groaning contently when the burn hit his throat. He looked at Castiel, who's legs were still draped over the barstool. A nonchalant smile suddenly lit up his face, his eyes now having turned back to green. Startling green, Castiel's brain provided with an almost polite tone.

Dean slapped his hand down on Castiel's shoulder. "Knew I could rely on you, Cas." He took another swig from the bottle, and walked out the door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Chapter two for you, earlier than I said, because I might not post anything new for the next two weeks, you know, holidays and then settling in at my new apartment for college and stuff. And because I'm a merciful god. Trigger warnings: more violence, also mentions of verbal abuse. And remember, any feedback/review is loved and cherished :)

~666~

Castiel stared at the door.

He could still feel the heavy hand on his shoulder.

For a split second, he allowed his brain to speak up, but found it to only scream incoherent nonsense at him. So he quickly grabbed his tumbler and downed the drink.

He thought back at his life.

His memory of it seemed to be full of holes. He remembered a shabby home, perhaps a sibling or maybe a few, it was all hazy. He remembered a drunk dad and a mother who was too weak and too much of a coward to step up when his father yelled at him.

He'd never been beaten, but the yelling had been enough abuse on its own. It had dented his self-esteem so strongly that he was left behind feeling like a hole in the ground. But he'd pulled through. He became an accountant, feeling quite proud when he finally landed his first job, as if he might be worth something to someone after all.

Not that his parents cared. Or his sibling. Siblings. Whatever.

And then he was sacked.

Apparently it had been budget cuts, nothing personal.

It had been enough.

He plummeted again, fell so far he couldn't see daylight anymore if he stood on a Hawaiian beach on midday for it.

He became his parents; a drunk (though only through beer) and a coward. He ditched his neat black suit and silk blue tie, threw his trench coat with the garbage. He never wanted to see the thing again.

And then he ran. He stayed in shabby apartments behind bars, each week another. He never quite seemed to remember whether he had actually paid for the place or whether he had simply broken in. Probably the latter. He didn't care.

It had been like this for the past three months. Everything before was a haze from some weird memory shit, the rest was simply a haze because of the alcohol.

Nothing had changed for the past three months.

Until Dean showed up.

A dark, terrifying, broken man whose eyes turned black. A man who could close doors and snap necks with a flick of his wrist. A man who slaughtered with sickening satisfaction.

A man who had seared himself into Castiel's mind.

The clap on his shoulder had vibrated right down to his very core, where he could still feel it thrumming.

It had awoken something within Castiel.

He didn't quite know what, but he did know that he was tired of this. And right now, he was tired of being a coward. He wanted action. He wanted to do something.

And so, without thinking further, he slammed down some change next to the tap (despite the dead bartender) and walked out the door, right after Dean.

The man was nowhere in sight, and the streets were dark and almost empty. However, there was one young woman, a prostitute. She was shivering violently despite the mild evening. Castiel walked towards her with steps that made him look a lot more certain of himself than he actually felt.

He grabbed the woman by her arm. "Hey, hey." His rough voice seemed to cut through her shock somehow. She looked up to him with huge eyes. "Covered in blood…" she whispered. Castiel shook her roughly. "I know, but where did he go? Tell me." There was a strange demanding tone in his voice that he didn't remember ever having used, yet it fit him completely, felt as if it was a part of him. It worked perfectly. The woman pointed a shaking finger to a dark alley further down the street. Castiel gave her a grateful nod and pushed some more change into her hand, not quite knowing what else to do with her.

He walked towards the alley with long strides, trying to get there before his mind could kick in and tell him that he shouldn't do this and that he had no idea what he was actually going to do when he got there.

The darkness swallowed him as Castiel entered the alley. He hadn't quite known what to expect, but seeing Dean waiting for him with black orbs as eyes and a cigarette in his hand wasn't quite it. Luckily the surprise didn't make him falter in his steps. If anything, the terrifying and smug grin only aggravated him. Which was exactly what he needed.

He walked up to the man, drew back his fist, and punched him square in the jaw.

It hurt, but the pain was washed away by the satisfaction settling in his body. And so he punched again. And again. He brought up his knee a bit and kicked downward, the kind of kick that would break bones. He let the violence rain down upon Dean as he shouted.

"You killed those people!" A sickening blow. "For booing you off the stage!" The pop of a dislocating shoulder. "You slaughtered innocents!" He wanted to raise his fist again, but Dean grabbed his wrist with a strength that was about as human as his eyes.

The man got up, still holding Castiel's wrist in a death grip. "Yeah," he growled. "I killed them. I slaughtered them."

Suddenly he let out a laugh as he dropped Castiel's wrist, which was probably severely bruised by now. "But innocent? Really? Come on, man, you can't be that naïve."

If looks could kill, Dean would have been dissolved in acid by now. Sadly, he was still standing, throwing up his hands. "Okay, okay, I get it, their biggest crime against me was booing me off the stage, yeah, obviously not something worth getting killed for." He rolled his eyes, which had turned green again.

Suddenly he became serious, which was oddly disconcerting. "Did you agree with them?"

Castiel froze.

This. This was the reason why he should never have followed Dean. This was the moment he would set his future in stone. And he didn't like his prospects.

If he lied, Dean would know. He was certain of it. But if he told the truth, Dean would give him that tiny, icy smile, pull out the knife again and cut his throat right there. This man might have spared him earlier, but he was sure Dean wasn't the type to hold sentiment for anything or anyone. He wouldn't think twice about ending him.

His reasoning only lasted a split second before he opened his mouth. "I did. You were far too loud."

He stared down the man in front of him. It was all he could do while he awaited judgement.

And there it was. A tiny smile creeping onto Dean's face as he looked at the filthy ground. Slowly he shook his head. "Always brutally honest, Cas," he said softly. "Well, except when it comes to things that are simply too big. Then you start lying to every goddamn soul around you, including yourself."

Castiel shoved him up against the wall. "You think you know me," he growled. "My name is Castiel James Novak. Whoever you think I am, you're wrong."

Dean let out a breathy laugh. "Struck a nerve there, hmm?" He shoved Castiel back hard with the greatest of ease, then proceeded to dust himself off as if his insides hadn't been turned to a bloody pulp and his shoulder wasn't dislocated. "Well. It was a pleasure meeting you, Castiel James Novak. You're right. I've never met you before in my life."

He turned around, but right before he walked away, he stopped. "Oh, and Cas? I don't think you realise yet, but you actually have two choices here."

Castiel frowned. And then it hit him.

He could stay behind. Go back into the routine of a broken man. Try and forget, just like he tried to forget the rest of his life.

Or he could follow Dean. Get dragged into the tar pit, not knowing where he would end up, though he was certain it was a place darker then where he was right now.

A choice between two shades of black.

Castiel stared at his knuckles, which had been stripped of their skin by his violence.

He was tired of where he was right now. He looked at Dean. And in that second, a thought occurred to him: once someone is properly corrupted, he doesn't mind anymore.

And so he followed.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I am SO sorry for the delay. I've been emigrating, and settling into college life abroad, and now I'm actually ill. But I'm still writing! I don't think this chapter needs warnings, though the next one will (it's almost all smut, so you know what to look forward to ). So yeah, hope you enjoy.  
> (See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Castiel was sitting in the passenger seat of a 1967 Chevy Impala. And she was a beauty. He had never been a car guy, but somehow he had always admired this model. But when he asked about her, Dean had simply shrugged and said it had been his dad's, after which they fell silent again.

Since then Castiel hadn't tried to make small talk anymore. Why he had even bothered in the first place was a mystery to him; the guy next to him was clearly a psychopath or something like that.

But Dean didn't seem uncomfortable at all. He just cranked up the music a little and sang along to AC/DC. Though for some reason he kept his volume down enough for Castiel not to get a headache again.

So Castiel had his thoughts to himself. He kept thinking about the bar scene, and everything that had happened afterwards. Dean hadn't hurt him at all, except for when he had grabbed Castiel's wrist. He hadn't actually fought back. He'd practically invited Castiel to come with him, for no apparent reason whatsoever. He kept calling him Cas, being way too familiar. And the other things he had said, about Castiel's honesty… Dean knew him. He was certain of it, even if he didn't know Dean.

But Dean seemed to be determined not to admit or address it for now, so Castiel decided not to press the matter. Better not poke a bear that seems to be on magical steroids and has an even worse temper.

He was desperate to know where they were going, but somehow he didn't expect an answer to that either. So he was left with one major question.

"What are you?"

To his relief, Dean only chuckled. "Nothin' special really," he answered. "Just a demon. A Knight of Hell, actually."

Castiel blinked. He vaguely remembered having been raised religiously, but he had always sort of assumed it had all been symbolic. Meeting a Knight of Hell had certainly been the least of his expectations.

"So is it all real?" he asked. "God, Lucifer, all of it?" Dean shook his head. "Sometimes I forget there's actually people out there who have no idea what's going on," he muttered.

Suddenly he looked directly at Castiel. "Yeah," he answered. "It's all real. Though God seems to be in hiding, and Lucifer's basically locked up."

Castiel frowned. "Keep your eyes on the road."

Dean raised his eyebrows, before he threw back his head in laughter. The loudness of it made Castiel wince a little, but it also brought a small smile to his face. It was nice to be able to make Dean laugh. He had a nice laugh. When it was genuine, at least.

When Dean calmed down again, now keeping his eyes on the road as Castiel had asked him to, the human decided to speak up again. "So who's in charge of Hell now if Lucifer is locked up? You?"

Again Dean laughed, though it was less boisterous than before. "Nah, I'm not the kind of guy to take on that responsibility. Crowley's King of Hell now. I just run around up here, having the time of my life."

He gave Castiel a quick grin before focusing on the road again. Cas swallowed. "Is that what I will be to you?" His voice was soft, careful. "A bit of fun?"

Dean shrugged. "We'll see. We could be friends maybe." "Like we once were?" Dean's eyes settled on Castiel's face. They were dark, though not black. "Another lifetime. We were both different men. Like I said before, I've never met you, Castiel James Novak."

He stared ahead again. "And I changed. But so did you."

Castiel felt uncomfortable, being talked about as if he'd been living an entirely different life than he remembered. But he had to know. And so he didn't comment. He simply listened.

Dean looked at him again. "You're not just different. You're malleable again too. I gave you a nudge in the right direction to become the man I was friends with, and I can shape you again now."

The comment made Castiel's skin crawl. But he still didn't speak out. He just let it come. Because once you're corrupted, you don't care anymore. And right now he just wanted to leave the drunk behind and become something else. He was desperate for the moment to come when he felt at ease next to Dean.

The corners of the demon's mouth curled upwards, but it wasn't a real smile. Not like the laugh from earlier. "This will work." Castiel shivered. He hoped it would.

~666~

Dean pulled up next to a lone diner that had only been accessible by driving down a dirt road. There were a few more cars, which made Castiel slightly nervous. What if Dean started slaughtering everyone again? But the way Dean had purposely driven towards such a place, it was probably one of his regular hideouts. Not that that was any better. It probably meant more demons waiting inside.

Dean walked in as if he was walking into a saloon, making the door sway open with wide arms. Of course this drew the attention of everyone inside the bar to him and Castiel, who felt like he wanted to cower behind Dean's back. However, remembering what Dean was, he moved away from the taller man a little and straightened his back. No-one would ever call him a coward again.

Trying to impress Dean was totally not what was happening here.

One of the demons walked up to them. "Dean! Really, out of all the pathetic creatures that crawl over the surface of the Earth, you brought him? You do realise he's a hazard right?"

Dean grinned. "Come on, Brad! Look at him. He Fell. He doesn't remember anything. Trust me, he'll be great." His eyes turned black. "You do trust me, don't you? Because last time I checked, it was you who were the new guy. Now I don't trust you for a second. So the moment you show distrust or disloyalty, I will end you. Got that?"

Brad swallowed and nodded, and Dean gave him a nod. "Good boy."

He walked up to the bar and Castiel followed. "If you don't trust him, then why is he even in your entourage?" Dean rolled his eyes. "I swear, the big words…" he muttered. "To tell you the truth, Cas, I don't trust any of these guys here. If I would build my entourage on trust, I would be alone."

"Why don't you trust them?" Dean laughed heartily again. "Really, you're still naïve! They're demons, Cas. They swear loyalty to five different sides if they get the chance. Anything to stay out of Hell and stay alive."

He took a swig of the Scotch that had been put down in front of him and gestured that Castiel got one too.

"Dean."

"Yeah."

"They're all staring."

Dean chuckled. "Well, you're one gorgeous motherfucker, so no surprise there." Castiel let his heavy azure blue stare rest on Dean. "It is because of who I used to be, isn't it?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "If you keep moaning about that I'm going to kick you out. Trust me Cas, you don't want that. Without my word you're dog food to them." He gave a quick nod to the other demons, who all seemed to glare at Castiel.

He shuddered. "I must have done something pretty bad to piss off demons." Dean looked at him with slight surprise on his face. "Really?" "What?"

Dean chuckled again. "You piss off the bad guys and immediately you jump to the conclusion that what you did was bad." Castiel had to think about that for a second. "Well, knowing myself, I'm not exactly the kind of guy to do something heroic enough to piss off the bad guys."

Dean shifted a bit closer to the human. "You have a really low opinion of yourself, you know that?" he growled. "Cas, look at me." Castiel had been afraid to face the demon next to him, but raised his eyes nevertheless. "The things you did were never from a heroic perspective. You did what you thought was necessary. You did things to please." His eyes turned black ever so slowly. "You did things to please me," he growled.

Castiel's breath hitched. This is wrong, he thought. A bad idea. Don't fall for the Knight of Hell, Cas. He blinked at himself. Cas. He looked up at Dean, whose eyes were still pitch black. "And did I please you?" he whispered hoarsely.

The corner of Dean's mouth curved upwards. "You did," he said softly.

"Did people get hurt?" This time, Dean chuckled. "You have no idea."

Castiel was drowning in those black orbs. Slowly, carefully, he could feel bits of himself disappear, felt how he was losing himself to Dean. Castiel was already growing silent, slowly making space for Cas. Dean's Cas.

Don't fall for the Knight of Hell, Cas.

Cas.

Don't.

Don't…

He leaned forward ever so carefully, taking in a shared breath with the guy across from him, a breath that tasted like smoke and Scotch.

Too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Whenever I write this story I get in a sort of trance, it just happens. Things are actually progressing a lot quicker than I thought. I thought Dean would keep Cas in the dark about knowing him for a lot longer. But hey, it works for me. This chapter is definitely my favourite so far that I have written, that includes chapter 4, which is almost done by now. So, please, review and stuff, it makes me very happy! Have a lovely day now!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yes, this is quicker than I promised! I will probably change my updating speed from once a week to twice a week, on Tuesday and Friday, because I'm actually writing more often than I thought I would be. So rejoice, and let there be smut! Warnings: a little bit more mentioning of verbal abuse, graphic smut, and a moment that is slight non-con so I'm going to call that warning of rape, even if you disagree. I take care of my readers, so no hate there. Enjoy!

Dean grabbed Cas’ wrist, the bruised one. Cas winced, but he didn’t mind. The pain felt good, grounding. It was the only thing keeping his mind in place as it tried to tune out.

He had once been seen kissing a boy when he was younger. Even though he was bisexual, it had still been too much. His dad had screamed at him, threatened him, called him names, told him he was nothing more than the dirt on the doormat. It had nearly destroyed Cas.

He wasn’t sure now if those memories were real. But it didn’t matter. They were still there. And they made his brain cower away from Dean’s grasp.

But the pain helped. He welcomed it like the alcohol, drinking it in, relishing in it. He even hung back a little as he was being dragged up a flight of stairs to make it hurt more.

It was what he deserved.

It was what he needed.

By the time they reached the bedroom, Cas’ breath had become a lot more laboured. Dean on the other hand seemed completely in his element. He threw open the door and pushed Cas into the room.

For a second neither of them moved.

Their gazes locked.

Then, with a snarl, Dean crossed the distance and crushed his lips against Cas’.

Cas’ heart seemed to skip three beats. Dean’s hands were everywhere, tugging at his shirt one moment and pulling at his belt the next, his movements quick and experienced. His lips pushed frantically, hungrily, trying to pry open Cas’ mouth.

Then his tongue darted out, flicking over the shorter man’s lips ever so lightly, causing Cas to moan and finally open his mouth and let Dean in. The demon growled hungrily, tasting, entwining his tongue with Cas’.

Their shirts were finally off now, and Cas was left staring at Dean in marvel. He wasn’t particularly muscular, but his chest and stomach were smooth and tanned. There was a strange tattoo above his heart, shaped like a pentagram in a ring of flames, which Cas traced carefully with his fingertips. Dean chuckled. “What?” “Nothing, just an inside joke.” “Care to let me in on it?” Dean raised his eyebrows seductively. “Another time. Right now, I have plans with you.”

He pushed Cas hard, causing him to land on the bed with a very unattractive “oomph”. Dean laughed softly at it, but his face turned dark again immediately when he climbed onto the bed, hovering over the other man. “I’m going to tear you down, brick by brick,” he growled.

Suddenly, he whipped his head down and plunged his teeth into Cas’ shoulder, causing the other man to throw back his head and let out a strangled cry while he dug his fingers into Dean’s back. He could feel the muscles coil under his touch, and let out a shuddering breath.

Dean had started carefully lapping at the bite mark, trailing hungry kisses down Cas’ throat, rolling his hips so their erections rubbed against each other. Cas moaned again, his rough voice quickly starting to sound wrecked.

Dean breathed hot breaths against Cas’ throat, letting his fingers brush against the skin on the other’s hips ever so slightly, then trailing them down to the button of his jeans. “We should get rid of these,” he muttered. Cas simply nodded. Yes, anything, anything for you Dean, please…

Though Dean probably couldn’t hear his thoughts, he could read them off Cas’ face, radiating with want and bliss, his eyes fluttering closed as Dean scraped his teeth over the sensitive skin on his lower abdomen. He chuckled.

“You want this?” “Hnngh, Dean, I – yes…” Dean grinned, Cas could feel it against his skin. The demon effortlessly opened his jeans, rubbing his nose against the little dip between the jutting hipbones, where a thin layer of sweat was developing. “Smell so good already, Cas…”

Cas bucked his hips. “Dean, please…” He could feel his cock pulsing, leaking precome in his boxers. Dean chuckled again. His stubble was sending shivers up Cas’ spine. “I like it when you beg, Cas.”

He lifted his head so he could look at Cas properly. The man was laying spread out on the sheets, covered in a sheen of sweat, evidently trying to keep himself still, his eyes hooded. 

“Do it again.”

Cas groaned. “Please Dean…”

Dean gave a small smile, then yanked the other’s boxers down, revealing his throbbing cock. “So beautiful, having you spread out before me like this…”

“Dean, please!”

That did the trick. With a snarl, Dean practically ripped of his own trousers, hissing as his own leaking dick came into contact with the cool air. He straddled Cas, taking his hands which had been frantically clamping onto the sides of the mattress, and lifted them above his head.

Cas finally opened his eyes completely to take in the sight of the man on top of him. He could feel Dean’s breath hitch as the demon locked gazes with him. Once again, for a moment, neither of them moved. Everything stopped. Their breaths held in, their hearts still.

Then, Dean finally leaned forward and pressed his lips against Cas’, immediately starting to lap at the inside of the smaller man’s mouth again, groaning at the taste. One of his hands let go of Cas’ wrists to pull a bottle of lubricant out of the drawer of his nightstand while he rolled his hips, letting their cocks slide against each other, smearing precome everywhere and making both men moan and shudder.

He quickly lubed up his own cock and used his still slick hand to rub some excess lube around Cas’ rim. Cas moaned again, his breath coming out in shockwaves, his hips rolling for more contact.

Dean huffed and looked down on Cas. He lined up his cock against the other’s hole.

Cas’ eyes widened. “Wait, Dean -”

A quick smile flashed on Dean’s face, his eyes turning black. Then he pressed in.

“AARGH!”

“Hnggurgh, Cas, so tight, just the way I like it -”

 Castiel didn’t even hear the demon on top of him. He felt ripped apart. He was sobbing, his fingers frantically trying to claw at something but only grasping air.

Tears were rolling down his cheeks. The pleasure was gone for him. “Dean, please, it hurts, please, no…”

Dean looked down at the man beneath him. “Hmm. Well, can’t have that for your first time, can ya?” He brought one of his hands up to his mouth and bit down hard, causing himself to bleed. He then rubbed the blood onto Castiel’s rim, which was ripped at some places.

Castiel whimpered, almost fainting from the pain. But then… the pain slowly retreated. His eyes widened. “Better?” Dean asked. He nodded. He could even feel the wounds heal a little.

Dean huffed. “Good. I had no idea if that would work. Seems Sammy drank the stuff for a good reason.” Castiel winced. He didn’t know who Sammy was, but what Dean was implying sounded horrible.

“Hey.” Dean put his hand on Castiel’s face, forcing the man to look at him. “We’re not done yet. So let’s do something about that cock of yours, hm?”

Castiel looked down. Yeah, he was definitely not hard anymore. He bit his lip, too ashamed to look Dean in the eye. Dean sighed softly. “Don’t worry Cas, it’s not that bad. How’s the pain?”

Castiel looked up. Not even Dean would ever be able to call him a coward again. “It’s better. Almost gone.” Dean smiled. “Good, good,” he crooned, letting go of the human’s wrists, his fingers caressing Castiel’s skin.

Slowly the smaller man could feel his old self slipping away again, Cas rising back to the surface. He was letting go. He had found something new to hold onto. And so he grabbed Dean by his arms, his right hand covering the strange hand-shaped scar on Dean’s right shoulder. It felt exactly right.

Dean leaned in carefully to kiss him. It was a slow and deep kiss at first, but it quickly became more heated. It didn’t take long before Cas became more aware of the feeling of the demon inside him. He felt so full.

“Dean…” he moaned, his voice becoming rougher again. Dean chuckled. “You want me to take care of you? Want me to move?” Cas just nodded, wary of other noises that might come out of his mouth if he tried to speak again.

The other man nipped at his neck. “Not yet, darlin’. You’re not quite there yet.” He was right - Cas was still only half hard. And so the demon reached down and took Cas’ erection in his hand, tugging softly and with experience, turning his wrist on occasion to draw a hoarse moan from the man underneath him.

He bent forward, accidentally moving against Cas’ still healing wounds, causing the other to cry out. He quickly stifled the sound though by crushing his lips against Cas’ mouth again, turning pain into pleasure while stroking and tugging, all the while holding the man’s hands pinned above his head. He replaced his mouth on the bite mark, sucking on it hard.

Dean grinned as Cas arched up under his touch. “Are you ready?” The other nodded, letting out a desperate whine when Dean pulled back a little to look down upon his plaything. You could hear the harsh breaths of both men, their chests rising and falling, sweat dripping down their faces and backs as they stared at each other.

Then, Dean thrust his hips forward. Cas cried out again, but from pleasure this time, his toes curling into the sheets. The demon swooped down again and scraped his teeth on the smaller one’s stubble, trailing saliva down his neck.

He moved back and thrust forward again, grunting while the man beneath him moaned and cried out. He tilted his hips a little and pressed his fingers into Cas’ back, dragging them down.

Cas could feel the friction, but it wasn’t as bad as first. It was rough though. But he took in the pain, let it keep his mind in place, with Dean.

Suddenly, the demon hit a certain spot within him. “Ah, Dean!” he shouted, straining to move his torso upwards, pressing his chest against Dean’s. The other man chuckled, pulling back and ramming into it again, causing his plaything to cry out again.

Cas could feel himself crumble and fall apart, with each thrust losing more of himself. Dean was a wrecking ball, he was a poorly built brick wall, being broken down.

“Dean…”

He could feel the climax building. He bucked into Dean’s hand, moaning loudly. Dean started tugging harder and faster. “Come on Cas, come for me…”

“Dean, I’m gonna…” He bucked again, and then with a loud cry finally shot his release over Dean’s hand and stomach. Dean just kept fucking him until he too came with a grunt, at last collapsing onto Cas.

 

They stayed like that for a few more minutes, both panting, their sweat and come starting to dry on their skin.

At last Dean pulled out, causing Cas to wince slightly. He got up, took a tissue from the nightstand and wiped off his stomach and cock. “Well, that was fun,” he said with a grin. “We should definitely do that more often.”

He then put on his trousers, and walked out the door, leaving Cas on the bed, naked, covered in sweat, bruises, blood that wasn’t his and his own come. Leaving Cas open, vulnerable and numb. But as soon as that door closed, his feelings came back, rushing through him. Shame and disgust caused him to roll to his side into foetal position. Sobs rippled through him until he couldn’t breathe anymore. And all he could think –

 

Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first smut ever. And I would be overjoyed to know what you thought, if I could improve, if you love or hate me. Anything. All reactions are welcome. Anyway, enjoy your day :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a filler this one. No real warnings I guess except for very mild mentions of smut, though I'll mention manipulation. But that's basically the theme throughout the story, so I won't mention it again, just expect it everywhere. Enjoy!

Dean walked down the stairs, a smug grin plastered on his face. It was however immediately wiped off the moment he walked into the bar.

All the demons present were standing, staring at him.

“What the hell is wrong with you guys?” he asked, looking around the room.

No-one answered. They all seemed to avoid his gaze, which now switched to black orbs. He took a step forward.

“Now I asked you a goddamn question. If I don’t get an answer within five seconds, I’m gonna start killing and exorcising at random. So, what’s it gonna be?”

For a moment it was silent. Then Brad stepped forward. “We called Crowley.”

Dean’s eyes flashed back to green. For a second he seemed dumbstruck. “You did what now?”

Before Brad could elaborate though the door opened and a rather short man in a black suit came walking in. “Gentlemen,” he nodded to the room with a London accent. All of them except for Dean returned the gesture. “Crowley.”

For another moment it was silent while Crowley looked around the room. “Well go on then!” he suddenly shouted. “Bugger off! I’m sure you all have business to attend to! This is grown-up talk. So all of you, fuck off.” He looked around again. “NOW!”

Every single demon in the room rose at the same moment, even the bartender, and quickly made its way to the exit. Crowley gave a satisfied nod. “Good. Still got it.”

The satisfied grin on his face melted away when he turned around to face Dean. “What on Earth do you think you are doing, boy!?”

Dean stepped forward, using his height for extra intimidation. “I don’t think that’s any of your business, Crowley.”

The shorter man was not impressed. “I think it very much is! I’m the King of Hell, son! I’m the one who has to keep an eye on what the fuck is going on in the demon world! And shagging a Fallen angel? Castiel, of all of them? Where the fuck did that even come from!?”

This time Dean’s hand shot up to squeeze the King’s throat. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Crowley, but I’m top of command now. I’m the strongest piece on the board. And I don’t have to tell you anything.”

He let go again, dusting himself off. “We made an arrangement – you would continue to do your King stuff, be the most important guy, keep the throne, rule the world, even continue your messed up addiction, while I get free reign in the background, as long as I’d stay out of your way.”

Crowley walked to the bar and poured himself a glass of Scotch. “Sit down, boy,” he said. Dean gave him a defiant look. “I said, sit.” It had no effect.

Crowley sighed. “Fine then, stubborn as always. Well then, you can listen standing too, I don’t care, whatever makes you comfy, right?” He tipped back the tumbler and smacked approvingly. “Ah, good stuff.”

He looked up at the taller man again. “Look, Dean, I’m not about to go back on our agreement, I used to be a Crossroads Demon after all. But are you sure this is a good idea? This could potentially get in my way. The boys are not pleased, and if they start doubting you, then they will most likely start doubting me too. We can’t have that. Besides, what happens if he remembers?”

Dean slowly strolled over to the bar, grabbing his tumbler and holding it out for Crowley to pour him some Scotch as well. “He won’t.”

“Oh really?” Crowley asked sceptically as Dean tossed back his drink. “And how would you know? Are you able to predict the outcome of the friggin’ Angel Wars now?”

Dean simply shook his head. “I’ve seen another Fallen angel without memory, you know. Took a hell of a lot of probing for her to get it all back.”

He winced a little at the taste of the amber liquid. “Don’t know how you can drink this brand,” he muttered. “And as for if it’s a good idea, I don’t know. I don’t really do ideas nowadays, just impulse.”

“But what are you planning on doing with him?” This made Dean give that small smile again. “I’m gonna destroy him. Though to be honest, I don’t think there’s much to destroy in the first place. He’s gonna be my construction site, my blank canvas if you will. And then I’m gonna build something new. A new Cas.” He chuckled softly. “Lord knows I’ve been able to change him before, and I’ll do it again.”

The King leaned forward. “But where do you want it to go? What are you planning on making?” Dean tossed back the remains of his drink, wincing again. “Ah, disgusting stuff.” He looked up from his glass. “I don’t quite know yet,” he answered at last. “But something twisted. Something messed up. I want him to be my little piece of art. And eh, between you and me? I can’t wait for the result.”

He flashed a grin, and placed his tumbler back on the bar. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I think the poor bastard is sobbing like a little bitch upstairs. Can’t have that now, can we?”

The Knight gave a soft chuckle. “I’m gonna be there for him. I’m gonna be the one he’ll get his comfort from, and he’ll grow so dependent of me, he’ll overlook the pain I cause him. Does that make sense?”

Crowley seemed about to answer, but Dean just waved it off. “Does to me.” He turned around and walked back up the stairs, leaving Crowley shaking his head, muttering to himself. “Gonna ruin me, boy.” He tossed back the remains of his own drink, and walked back out the front door.

 

~666~

When Dean re-entered the bedroom, Castiel had no tears left to shed, but his eyes were still red and his face was blotted, so the demon quickly sat down next to the man on the bed, who kept his back to him.

“Hey, Cas,” he muttered, his still bloody hand stroking Castiel’s back softly. “Sorry I left like that. I had to check in on the boys though.”

“They hear us?” it came muffled from the wall. Dean chuckled. “Yeah, they sure did. Quite a voice you got there. I mean, you sound hot enough when you’re talking normally, but when you come, damn…”

Suddenly his hot breath was on Castiel’s ear. “Now that should be illegal.”

Castiel seemed to shrink away from Dean’s closeness, but the demon was having none of it, wrapping one arm around the other’s shoulders. “Hey, that’s fine. I love it. And I don’t love anything. I want to hear you scream, you hear me? Be as loud as you can for me. Always.”

Even though he was perhaps supposed to be sounding comforting, it still managed to come out as a command. Not that it mattered. Castiel could already feel deep down that he would do whatever Dean would ask of him, no matter what, no matter how he asked it.

Dean chuckled. “You’re gonna be fine here, you hear me? Being such a temptation, with such pretty noises… You’ll fit right in amongst us demons. And if you don’t, don’t worry. I’m gonna take care of you. After all, you’re mine.”

Carefully, Cas turned around, looking at the man hovering over him. His eyes had turned black again, his entire body radiating possessiveness. Cas smiled and sat upward, wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck to keep himself in place. “I’m yours.” It sounded more like a growl than anything else, and he knew he’d pleased Dean with it.

The demon grinned, his eyes still black. “Now you’re getting it.” And Cas could only smile back, feeling no warmth in it. So he closed the distance between them, and crushed his lips against Dean’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you all for reading my stuff! Now, to business: I take requests. I have a few story ideas of my own, but requests are perhaps even easier. So send me anything Spn-related, or even Avengers-related, though I'm better at Spn I think. Send it in comments or PMs, it's all fine! So, have a lovely day, and don't be shy, I don't ever judge and love a challenge!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: First of all, big thank you to Zombieraptor for being the first and so far only person to actually spare some (incredibly kind :) ) words on Fanfiction.net, thank you! Now, this chapter is ridiculously short, I know, but I'm still waiting with my upload until Friday, otherwise I'll catch up on my own writing. Chapter warnings: some really depressing and degrading thoughts, and a suicide attempt.

Cas stayed in the room for the next few weeks. Dean would occasionally go out, or just pop downstairs where Cas could hear him laugh with the other demons. He wondered if Dean talked about him, telling grand tales about how he made the other moan his name, how Cas begged for release whenever they fucked again. He’d curl up when these thoughts hit him, feeling like he was about to throw up, whether it was from shame and disgust or fear of what kind of picture Dean was painting of him downstairs, he didn’t know.

But at the end of the day, Dean would always end up in the bed Cas spent his days in. He would bring food in the day and he would sleep there at night, often holding the smaller man from behind, stroking his abdomen, slowly letting his hands stray down to take Cas’ already half-hard erection into his hand.

Though that seemed gentle, it would always end up rough. Sometimes Dean wouldn’t even bother with lying down behind Cas. It was as if he could always sense whether the other man was standing, and he would barge into the room, grabbing Cas’ face and forcefully kiss him. It was always Dean to initiate, and it was always rough.

But Cas didn’t mind. He fell into this rhythm with the greatest of ease, as effortless as falling asleep. In the beginning he had spent his days reading, but that had quickly changed to simply waiting for Dean to come upstairs and anchoring him with the pain and the care that almost always came after.

It never even occurred to him that this relationship might not be entirely healthy.

~666~

Then, suddenly, there was the day that Dean didn’t come.

Cas hadn’t seen it coming. He hadn’t feared it. Dean was always there for him. So when his lunch didn’t show up, he didn’t know what to think of it.

So he tried not to think at all. He just shut himself down, waiting for a lunch that never came, a moment where he and Dean would be sitting on the mattress, the demon telling stories and laughing at Cas’ occasional disgust about the gruesomeness of them. They were moments he treasured, because he could hear Dean laugh.

But there wasn’t one today.

At 10pm he finally realised Dean wasn’t going to show up with food. But he quickly shoved down his thoughts again, shutting himself down.

At 1am he understood – Dean wasn’t coming. His laughter hadn’t been booming up through the floorboards at any time in the day. He was gone. And he wasn’t coming back for Cas.

And why would he? What had Cas ever given him? A hole to stick his dick in, moans. A listening ear… What would a Knight of Hell do with that?

It had been fun.

But Castiel had outlived his usefulness. Dean had grown bored of him. He had tossed his toy into a corner where it would gather dust, wither, rot, die.

Die.

Castiel was no use to Dean anymore. The demon had destroyed every ounce of him, and all that had been left over now was nothing.

Castiel was nothing.

Die. 

Of course Castiel had his own little bathroom and razor.

Die.

He looked into the mirror, not even seeing the figure staring back at him, not seeing anything that he could identify as himself. There was nothing there. Not a living thing.

Die.

He didn’t know why. His mind just kept whispering from a dark corner, in the back – please…

Battling another voice, from another dark corner that was placed at the front of his mind.

Die.

He looked down.

Like an eternity ago, all he saw was a red smudge on his retina. Except now he seemed more aware of what it was.

Good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, do any of you hate me yet for the shortness? Next chapter will be approximately the same length I'm afraid, but after that normal lengths will resume. Just to say, I've never had any suicidal tendencies so this was really my own interpretation of what it might be like. I hope I didn't cause any offense or traumatisation or anything, I'm just a writer, don't hate me... But yeah, keep reviewing, and send me requests! I am likely to try any Spn requests, I love a challenge so if it isn't my cup of tea I'll still try and I don't judge so don't be shy :) Now, after this depressing chapter and an A/N that is almost longer than the chapter itself, have a nice day :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm tired and addicted to writing, but too tired to continue to write, so instead I'm uploading earlier than promised. I think I can get away with it this time, with such a short chapter :) Anyway, thank you kurayami (this story used to be on a different account)! Every little word lights up my day! But yes, warnings. Eh, blood? That's it really, besides the dark stuff that's everywhere in this story. And Spn is full of blood. So you'll be fine! Also, those who started reading before this chapter came online, did you notice? I changed the summary and the people who are in it a little. I did say I didn't know where this story would go. So, surprise, you're reading the prelude to Wincestiel! (Though that is basically a surprise to me since you guys have seen the tags.) Now, enjoy!

“Cas!”

~666~

Pressure on his aching wrists.

Why was there pressure?

Pressure against his back.

Was he lying down?

My coffin feels space-y.

But it was too soft.

Cas wanted to open his eyes, but they were made of lead. He could hear  someone moving a little next to him, but it took time and effort to even form thoughts that wondered about it.

It was like dragging himself through a tar pit, so heavy…

He wanted to make a sound, let them know he was awake, but no matter how much effort he used, nothing came.

Until finally, a soft groan.

“Cas…”

He finally found the ability to open his eyes. He was lying on his bed in the darkened little room.

He remembered another name of his, but it tasted foreign now.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

He finally found the strength now to turn his head and look at the man sitting next to him, vivid blue eyes meeting clear green ones.

Dean didn’t look relieved. He didn’t look relaxed or happy. Instead he looked like he was holding back a fury that could bring down the building.

“…Dean?” It sounded a lot more hesitant this time.

“What the fuck gave you the impression that you could do that to yourself!?” the demon hissed. Cas shrunk away from the words as if they were physically hurting him, but Dean was having none of it. He grabbed the shorter man’s arm roughly and dragged him closer, forcing him to look into raging green eyes.

“Don’t you ever do that again!” he growled. “Not ever, do you hear me?” Cas wanted to nod, but Dean’s grip strengthened.

“Look at me Cas! Listen to me! You can’t do that!”

For a split second they looked into each other’s eyes. Cas thought he saw something calculating in the other’s gaze, but he soon forgot it when Dean pulled him into a tight hug.

“You can die when I tell you to,” his muffled words were. “Not anytime else. Not ever.”

Cas finally returned the hug. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Good.”

He looked down. Dean’s face had been splattered in blood, but it had been long dry. His clothes however were still soaked. “Where did this come from?”

Dean pulled back, not showing any signs of warmth on his face from the hug. It had been a necessity, nothing else. “Yours. Take a good long look at me Cas. See how much blood you’ve spilled.”

And Cas did. There was blood everywhere, he saw now. His face flushed. “All mine?” “Yeah.”

He looked up at the demon. “How do you think I feel, Cas?” Cas bit his lip. “Angry,” he responded softly. “And?” “Disappointed.” “Exactly.”

Cas finally realised what he had done. He had let Dean down. He had given up.

And he now also realised something else – Dean hadn’t tossed him into a corner. Cas was still wanted.

But why?

Look at his face. Tilted to the right just the tiniest bit, his eyes scanning you. You let him down.

He expected more of you.

He expects more of you.

This is not over yet.

Cas’ frown smoothed out a little, his face becoming almost expressionless. “I understand now.”

He threw his arms around Dean and kissed him aggressively, the demon greedily kissing back. Between the pants and soft groans Cas managed to utter out a few words.

“I’m going to give back. I’m going to give you what you want.”

Dean pulled back, a sly grin on his face. “Well then,” he responded softly. “I think it’s time for us to go out together and raise a little hell.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realise that people don't just recover from a suicide attempt as quickly as this. But then again, I wouldn't quite call this a real recovery. But hey, the story needs some tempo in it. Anyway, you are all far too shy! Send me requests please, any sort! I will do one-shots, fluff, smut, big stories, small ones, AUs, dark, light, anything! Also, I watched The Avengers again today for the 50th time, and gawd I love the Marvel films! So send me Avengers requests too, I'm awaiting it all with open arms :) now, have a nice day!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yay, next chapter! It's all going so fast! Finally, Cas and Dean are leaving the nest... Anyway, yes, warnings: relatively public smut. What can I say, I like a story with multiple smutty chapters :) Enjoy!

****

Every demon had stared at them as Dean and Cas walked into the main room of the bar. Cas had straightened his back, but Dean had still been able to sense his nerves and had taken his hand, claiming the other as his for all to see in the gesture.

“Those that touch Cas will die a slow and painful death,” he had stated simply. It was enough for all of them to avert their gaze, which had made Cas feel a little more comfortable.

It was only once they were standing outside that Cas realised that he had no idea what was going to happen. He looked at Dean, locking their gazes. Then, the demon grabbed his head and drew him in for a violent and sloppy kiss.

“Relax, darlin’,” he grinned. “You and I are simply gonna have a bit of fun. Nothing to worry about.”

Cas didn’t argue. He realised that bad things were going to happen. But Dean was there to keep him grounded, to catch him when he’d fall. And so he took a breath and nodded. There was nothing to worry about.

~666~

“A clothes shop? Really?”

Dean laughed at that. “Dude, have you seen yourself lately? You’re a mess! Trust me, you need some new clothes, even if only for now.”

Cas looked down. Dean was right. His bandages were off already, thanks to the healing powers of demon blood, but he was still covered in his own blood, sweat and God knew what else. And he smelled. He had taken the occasional shower, but it had been more of a rinse than actually soaping up. So yeah, maybe he could use a bit of freshening up.

So he walked into the store, browsing and occasionally holding up some clothes. Dean was not far behind him, giving people dark looks that basically told them to back off. One guy tried his mobile phone, which made the demon smirk. The guy would never get reception with Dean nearby.

Cas eventually walked into the dressing rooms, and Dean followed. While he was trying stuff on, Dean simply handed him some warm water, a towel and some soap. “No-one will mind and everyone will appreciate it,” he grinned. The shorter man rolled his eyes, but cleaned himself up anyway. He appreciated it too.

When he stepped out of the cubicle, Dean whistled. “That’ll do, definitely.”

Cas was wearing black jeans, which fitted loosely around his hips, a greyish blue shirt, and a black leather jacket. He looked in the mirror, a small humourless smile forming on his lips. This was definitely the right outfit. This was Cas.

He turned around to face Dean, whose eyes had become dark and hooded with lust. “Yeah?”

 Dean snarled, and crushed his lips against Cas’. “Yeah,” he growled, pressing Cas against the wall while the other wrapped his legs around the demon’s hips, grinding their crotches against each other.

Cas let out a soft whimper when Dean sucked on the skin under his jawline, rubbing his nose against the shorter man’s dark stubble. “Damn it Cas, what did I say about noise…” He effortlessly opened his lover’s new jeans and took the already leaking member in his hand, causing Cas to cry out. “Dean..!”

The demon chuckled. “More like it, darlin’,” he muttered against the other’s skin. “But I bet I can crank up the volume.”

He sank to his knees, now properly sliding the jeans down, exposing Cas’ cock to the humid air in the changing rooms. “Dean, we’re not e- even – in – ah! A cubicle…” The demon looked up from the other’s cock, having pressed his lips against the tip just a moment earlier.

“Anyone could walk in…” The argument sounded weak to Cas’ own ears. Dean grinned. “I’m counting on it.”

And at that he wrapped his lips around Cas’ cock at took it into his mouth completely.

“A- aah, Dean!”

The demon let his fingers skitter across the other’s thighs ever so lightly, as if to say such pretty noises… He started moving, causing Cas to groan more.

Then, Dean’s finger just slipped into Cas’ entrance, and at the exact same moment he swallowed.

“Argh – Dean!” Cas threw his head back against the wall, bucking his hips to get more penetration and feel the demon’s mouth sink further down on his cock.

Dean chuckled and pulled a packet of lube out of his pocket, slicking up his fingers. Now that they were slick enough he stuck them in one by one, taking not quite enough time, making it hurt, the way Cas wanted it.

Cas was now coming completely undone, grabbing Dean’s hair, bucking his hips again, moaning loud enough for the entire shop to hear him. He didn’t care though. Let them hear him. Let them hear what Dean could do to him. “Dean -”

He was properly riding the demon’s fingers now, but he wasn’t there yet. “Mo- more…”

Dean growled, drawing back with a wet slurp. “Ain’t easy to please, are you?” He pulled down his own trousers in one swift motion and impatiently slicked up his own cock, pressing the shorter man against the wall, attacking his mouth again.

“Spread your legs a bit more, honey, gotta have good access after all.” So Cas once again wrapped his legs around Dean’s waist, dragging his throbbing erection across the other man’s stomach, trailing precome and saliva. “Whore,” the demon chuckled. Cas didn’t care. “Dean, please!”

So the demon penetrated his plaything again, making him shout. “Aah! D- Dean, move -” He didn’t have to say anything, Dean started fucking him immediately. “Cas, Cas…” the Knight panted. “So fucking tight, always so tight -”

He struck Cas’ prostate, making him shout out loudly, over and over. “Dean…” Dean knew what to do. He sank his teeth into his plaything’s shoulder, making the other shout out one last time, his fingers and heels digging into the demon’s back.

When they finally came down from their high, Dean took out some tissues and started wiping himself off, while Cas simply tucked his cock back into his trousers. Both he and Dean always went commando nowadays.

“What did you say about freshening up again?” “Oh, are we getting sassy now?” Dean snapped back. For a second there was a tense silence. But then they both started laughing, nearly bending over from it.

After a few minutes Cas finally managed to catch his breath. “Ah, fuck,” he huffed out, still half chuckling. Dean just shook his head, his shoulders shaking slightly as well.

“Anyway. Shall we?” Dean held out his hand like a gentleman offering a hand to help a lady out of her carriage. Cas took it with a grin. “Yeah, let’s.”

Together they walked back into the store, where only two people were left; a teenager with a slightly traumatised expression on his face and his headphones on, who was doing his best to avoid their gaze at all costs, and the cashier, who looked like she wanted to wash her ears out with bleach. Cas gave her his sweetest smile. “If you don’t mind, we’ll just walk out with these. And if you play nice, we promise we won’t come back.”

The woman simply nodded, too horrified to do anything else. On their way to the exit Dean quickly grabbed two pairs of Aviator sunglasses, handing one to Cas. On the threshold he stood still for a moment. “Well, promise… That’s kind of a big word.” Then they finally walked out, putting on their Aviators at the same time, laughing, holding hands all the while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yay, they're slowly becoming a bit more equal :) Anyway, my first BJ description ever... Please tell me if it's okay or if it needs a little more or whatever. (I'm a major virgin, I write what I know from other fanfics..) And don't forget to send me requests, because I'm still not getting any! Don't be shy! On another note, I've been thinking of starting to write another fanfic, you know, publish two at the same time. If I'm going to do this, it'll probably be an Avengers private/boarding school AU. Might be. How does that sound? Anyone interested? It might slow down the updates though, so tell me if you want this or not. It will porbably be a lot less dark and a bit less smutty (oh god I'm not that good at writing funny light stuff, it automatically becomes deep and dark quite often so it's going to be a challenge but I like challenges so let me know what you want!). And I'm rambling too much again. So, have a nice day!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yay, new chapter! Warnings for this one: slight hinting at Cas' suicide attempt and some hinting at torture, and some getting off on (the thought of) pain being inflicted. But yes, next chapter is going to go full-blown torture...

Cas soaked up the sunshine. It was nice to be outside again. Dean was smiling slightly, though Cas wasn’t quite sure why.

“So where are we going?”

The demon took a cigarette out of his pocket, lighting it with his finger, then inhaling deeply before blowing out the smoke. “Well, I asked around back in the bar if any of the boys still had some kind of job,” he responded. “It’s what I do when I get bored. It’s what I went to do, you know, when you tried to gank yourself.” Cas winced at this, but Dean ignored it. “It got a little bit out of hand, that’s why it took me so long to get back.”

He looked at the blue-eyed man next to him. “But this time you’re with me. Party for two.” He flashed a grin, and Cas could see even through the sunglasses that the demon’s eyes had flashed black with it.

He gave a small nod. “So what are you expecting of me?” Dean drew another deep breath from his cigarette. “Don’t worry Cas, I’m not expecting anything. You can sit in a corner while I do the dirty work for all I care. You can shoot the target with a gun, quick clean death, if you think you want to give it a go but can’t get yourself to do the nasty bits yet. It’s all fine with me. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

This surprised the other man. He wasn’t used to Dean being so thoughtful. But after glancing at the demon, he realised it wasn’t really thoughtfulness. Dean was wearing a small cocky smile on his face; he knew Cas wouldn’t leave the room or sit in a corner. He knew Cas would do more, eager to please, to give back.

He took a deep breath. “You’re a dick, you know that?” Dean looked at him in surprise, but then threw his whole upper body back in laughter. “That I am, yeah, no doubt about it,” he sniggered after a few minutes. Cas smiled awkwardly, feeling a little annoyed over being laughed at, but happy to hear Dean’s laugh again.

After a few minutes of walking, Cas finally turned to Dean again. “So where are we going?” The demon gave a lazy smile. “Two blocks down. Crowley was actually the one to give me this job. Won’t trust any lower ranking demons with it.”

They turned down a corner into a rather nice looking street. “Basically we’re dealing with a demon who’s gone rogue, went and told on Crowley to some unknown guy who wants to take advantage of the chaos in Hell during the whole Angel Wars and the battle for Hell between Crowley and Abaddon.”

Cas stared at Dean.

“Oh right, you have no idea what I’m talking about,” the demon remembered. “That is still weird. Well I’m not gonna explain now. But he’s proving to become a pain in the ass. Especially since we know barely anything about him. So what you and I are gonna do now, is visit our little rat, get intel, and then end it.”

Cas nodded. It sounded like they were gonna torture someone, but it didn’t quite bother Cas as much as he’d expected. Maybe the realisation simply hadn’t sunk in yet.

They went around another corner and walked a little further, until Dean gave the signal that they were at the right house.

It was a nice house, similar to those classic San Francisco houses you always see in films. Dean chuckled. “It’s always the same. We might be the scum of the Earth, but we still demand some quality and class. Or at least most of us do.”

He walked up the steps to the door, and not even bothering to knock, just blew it out of its hinges with one huge kick, striding into the hallway, Cas on his heels. “Spanish Inquisition!” he shouted. The shorter man sniggered behind him, something he hadn’t expected. Not that he minded. It was a good boost for his ego.

On the floor above them the men could hear frantic scrambling and a bang, as if someone had knocked something over. Dean’s eyes flashed black as a grin spread on his face, and he took the stairs two at a time, Cas calmly following.

When he finally caught up with Dean, he found the Knight pressing a young woman against the ground. “Cas, meet Bela. Bela, Cas.” The woman spat in his face. Cas chuckled. “Pleasure.”

Dean’s head snapped up. “Yeah, no. We’re not gonna do that.” He looked down at the woman again. “This ain’t a social call, sweet cheeks. We’re here for business.” He dragged her up from the floor, snapping his fingers at Cas.

The shorter man blinked, but quickly realised what was expected of him. He grabbed a sturdy chair and some rope, and after another annoyed snap of the demon’s fingers and getting pointed in the right direction, some chalk as well.

He realised he wasn’t happy about Dean calling Bela sweet cheeks. It had struck something within him. And the Knight had been treating him as an equal all day, but now he was treated as a servant. So when it came to tying Bela up, he took matters into his own hands and used the best, tightest knots he remembered from being a boy scout, making sure it hurt. Dean in the meantime drew some symbols to keep the woman powerless.

When Cas was done, Dean gave an approving nod at his work, causing the other man to gleam with pride.

“So, Bela is actually an old acquaintance, aren’t ya Bela?” Dean said, smiling coldly while calmly taking out a knife with strange markings on it. He pointed to a duffel bag. “Cas, could you…?” Cas quickly obliged, pulling out a bag of salt and a bottle of water whilst the Knight stepped outside of the nearly finished circle and closed it carefully from the outside.

“Yeah, Bela and I go back. Of course, back then, she was still human. A bitch, definitely, but human.” “As were you,” Bela panted from the effort of struggling against her bonds, her British accent still sounding posh despite it. “And look at you now. You used to be so handsome…”

Cas snarled, stepping into the circle of scribbles on the floor, having ripped Dean’s knife from the demon’s hands and pressing it against her throat. “Say that again,” he growled softly in her ear. “Say it again and I’ll rip your throat out.”

Where did that come from? You used to be such a pacifist, a gentle person. You were never violent.

Castiel was never violent, Cas’ thoughts snapped back. But Castiel is dead now, lying on a bathroom floor, wrists slit, blood drained.

It’s time for a new sheriff in town.

A disturbing grin spread on his face. “What do you want me to do, Dean?”

The demon’s breath had become a little more laboured. When Cas turned around, he could see his pupils had dilated, his eyes dark with lust.

“I need you to go slow on her for now,” he answered, his voice having become darker, raspy. “She’s stubborn and a pain in the ass, but she can break quite easily when the right pressure is applied. And she’s a treacherous little bitch. So I need you to go slow. Drag this out.”

His eyes became fully black.

“Play with her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yay, I added a random conflict, now we actually have a slightly bigger plot! Anyway, I'm still not getting requests. Really, I'm trying to provide entertainment, and that works best if I know what my crowd wants. Ask and you shall receive! Only LillyCasterwill has given me one for a Rom-Com style of setting people up for a date kind of thing. Also, I've started working on my Avengers fanfic, but I have no clue where the plot is going to go. Once I've progressed with that, I'll see if I want to upload it. Anyway, thanks for reading and keep reviewing and send me requests and all that. And have a lovely day :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Here we go, chapter 10! Warnings: torture, getting off to torture.

Bela lifted her chin in defiance. “I might have only been gone here for, what, six years? But Hell counts months as decades, Dean, as you well know. I’ve spent seven hundred years on the rack. Don’t go and think I can’t take some torture.”

Cas bent in close, his face a mere inch from hers. “No,” he said softly after staring into her eyes for a few tense seconds. “I think you’re lying.” He sank to his knees, letting the blade glide smoothly over the tiny strip of exposed skin on her stomach. “You’re terrified,” he smiled sweetly.

Of course she was. She remembered the Winchesters, even after seven centuries of torture. She knew of their determination, and how they always justified their hunting and their actions against other humans by saying it was for the greater good, while in reality it was all to try and make themselves feel less like monsters that didn’t deserve to live. Their minds had already been twisted back then, just a tiny bit, but enough to make it dangerous. Now that Dean was a powerful demon, Bela didn’t see her situation to become any better.

She knew she was going to die today, again, but this time for good. That was quite a comforting thought actually, despite her will to live. That wasn’t what she was afraid of.

She had heard about the demon Alistair, master torturer. How he had trained Dean.

And now, Dean had clearly trained his own pet too.

Death didn’t scare Bela anymore.

Cas on the other hand, a human being, not a demon – but the look in his eyes…

Cas terrified her.

He pressed the knife in, just a tiny little bit, let the tip pierce her skin, causing her to whimper.

He felt the knife in his hand. It was a little heavier than it looked. It felt strange, cool against his skin, but at the same time it felt as if there was some sort of power humming through the knife, into his veins. He could feel the resistance of the flesh when he pressed, and then felt it give way a little but still pushing back while sliding against the blade at the same time. When Bela made the smallest of sounds, he could feel his own pupils dilate and fire surge through his lower abdomen – a mixture of adrenaline and lust.

He looked up at Dean with a beaming smile, receiving an approving nod. The Knight’s eyes were hooded and fully black. His body seemed relaxed as he leaned back in his chair to enjoy the show, but his spread legs showed his straining erection.

For a split second Cas wanted to get up and take care of the demon, but the look he received kept him in place. All Dean wanted right now was to watch him as he experimented with this new form of entertainment, how he would take Bela apart, pull at the seams, unravel the threads of her sanity until there was nothing left but a quivering pile of flesh.

And so Cas turned back to the weaker demon, drawing the knife over her skin, the look in his eyes inquisitive as he felt the new sensation of her stomach coming up slightly with each breath, pressing a little against the knife, or the new sounds of the skin parting under his blade, the sounds of her gasps and whimpers. The smell of sweat and fear in the air, mixing with blood. The image of droplets welling up from her abdomen, a gold glow underneath – the magic from the knife.

“I’ve just been doing the math,” he said softly, almost sounding breathless. “If it has been exactly six years since you and Dean last met, then you’ve been out in the open for two months.”

Bela paled. She had already spilled information. It might not be useful, but it was information nonetheless.

Cas was staring at the knife, at the ruby red drops on the tip. Carefully he brought it to his mouth, but just before he could bring it further he felt a hand on his back. He looked up, seeing Dean behind him, his eyes dark and furious.

“No Cas,” the Knight spoke. The shorter man swallowed, understanding what the other didn’t say. Only Dean’s blood is for you to taste.

The demon seemed to relax a little, taking a step back. Cas noticed how he wouldn’t enter the circle around Bela. He had only been able to touch Cas’ back because it was sticking slightly outside of the border. Interesting.

Dean handed him the bottle of water and the bag of salt. “Holy water and salt have always been a bit nasty for us demons,” he remarked. “So toy around with those a little. See how she likes it.”

Cas nodded, taking the objects from Dean and placing them beside him. He stared at them for a moment, then took some of the salt. He looked at the woman in front of him. Her breath had become slightly more laboured, but there was still a certain defiance in her eyes.

He cocked his head a little to the side. “I wonder…”

He pressed the salt against her arm.

Bela failed to suppress a cry that went right down to Cas’ bones. The salt left a sizzling mark on her arm, which he stroked carefully, as if to see if her skin had gained the same texture as a burn mark. He poured some of the holy water over it, but instead of soothing the wound, vapour rose up as if it were boiling hot, causing her to cry out more.

He gave a small nod, then went back to the superficial cut on her lower abdomen. He took the knife again, coating it generously with holy water. Then, he dragged it through the wound again, making it deeper, causing the demon to squirm and let out a scream.

Cas stared at Bela, fascinated by what he saw. Her eyes kept flashing between grey and black, as if she was losing control over herself. He looked up at Dean. “Will no-one hear?”

The Knight smiled, biting his lip ever so slightly. He had started pressing the palm of his hand against the bulge in his jeans. “Nah,” he groaned. “But really, even if they – do,” his breath hitched, “do you care? ‘Cause I don’t.” Every word was a growl, and the thought that it was Cas’ handiwork doing this to Dean was the only thing keeping the blue-eyed man in place. With a snarl he turned back to Bela, sticking the blade further in, covering the wound with salt, then turning the knife to get the substances everywhere.

She had now become a sobbing mess. “Please, just – just make it stop – just kill me…” Cas didn’t have to look at Dean to know what the answer was. “Not going to happen,” he said seriously. With his free hand he lifted her chin so she could look him in the eyes. “You see, Dean told me to play with you. And you’re my first as well. So I’m not going to let this slip. I’m going to try things out, see how far demons like you bend before they brake.”

Behind him, Cas heard a guttural moan, and he knew Dean had put his hand into his trousers. For a split second he smiled at the mental image, but then his look was serious again. “I’m still learning, Bela. And so far it is… truly fascinating.”

Bela finally realised that there was no way she was getting out of this. There was no sentiment left in Dean; hell, he was jacking off to her blood dripping on the floor. No he isn’t. Not to her. To Cas.

A broken sob left her lips. “And… and if I tell you? If I tell you everything I know?”

This made Cas frown. He looked back to Dean, who had indeed put his hand down his jeans. His head had been thrown back slightly, his eyes hooded, but now he was looking directly at Cas.

“She’ll talk. In the end.”

Cas nodded and turned back around. “This really isn’t your lucky day.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hated having to cut that off there! Honestly, I want to upload the next chapters so badly, I love them so much, but if I did I would catch up with my own writing..Ugh the frustration! But yeah, Cas is seriously messed up now... >:) Anyway, please, review, send requests, I will love you all for it! And, as always, have a nice day :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, chapter 11. Warnings: torture, smut. Oh yeah, just to be on the safe side, even though I haven't said it in a while: I don't own Supernatural.

Cas continued to work on Bela like an experimental artist creating his first ever painting, slicing, cutting slowly and carefully, pressing salt against her eyes, dripping holy water down her ears. Drawing screams and sobs from the demon, tilting his head a little each time she made another sound. And all the while, Dean would sit in the background, his eyes black, his hand down his jeans, grunting softly, his gaze never leaving Cas.

In the end, when the lesser demon barely had energy left to even keep her eyes fully opened, Cas finally abandoned her to sink down wordlessly next to the Knight, where he freed the other’s member from the constricting denim and sunk his mouth down on it, taking it in completely until it hit the back of his throat. Dean threw back his head, groaning loudly, incapable of forming any words.

The men didn’t care that Bela was there. She was nothing more than furniture.

But despite her exhaustion and the fact that she was being ignored, she was still very much conscious. And watching. Bela found it impossible to take her eyes off the display, Cas giving every fibre of himself, Dean drinking it all in, never quite satisfied, always wanting just a bit more.

She watched Cas’ head bob up and down, watched one of his hands work on the base of Dean’s cock while the other massaged his thigh. She watched his throat move every now and then when he swallowed, and Dean’s reaction when every muscle in his body seemed to strain itself when Cas would do this.

Cas’ free hand, the one that had been on Dean’s thigh, moved down to meet his own erection straining in his trousers, swiftly freeing it. It wasn’t as thick as the Knight’s, but slightly longer and just as hard and throbbing.

He started pumping while still sucking Dean, every now and then doing something, probably with his tongue since Bela couldn’t see what, that made the other man moan again loudly.

Neither of the men used words. It was nothing but grunts and moans and sweat, almost animalistic in its way. It was disconcerting to watch – Cas gave himself to Dean completely and with utmost devotion, yet there was nothing between that could ever even be associated with anything close to love. It was dark, it was dirty. It was terrifying. It was so, so utterly wrong.

Cas made a frustrated sound from the back of his throat. All this was apparently not enough to get him off. He got up, causing Dean to snap his eyes open and let out a similar frustrated growl at the loss of heat around his cock. But as the black orbs set on Cas’ face, his face broke into a grin. The shorter man sank down without any preparation, using only his own saliva as lube, and let out a scream before he pressed his face in Dean’s neck, shivers running through his body.

They sat like that for a minute or two before Cas started to move. At first it was nothing more than slowly circling his hips, grinding his ass against Dean’s thighs, making the Knight’s ragged breath hitch. He bent forward a little, and started sucking and nipping at Dean’s neck, doing his best to create a hicky that would never come; demons were simply too difficult to damage.

Dean didn’t mind though, his hands pressing Cas’ face against his neck, his hips slightly bucking into the other man, causing Cas to gasp. He did it again, on purpose this time, a grin spreading on his face again, letting out short breaths that sounded rough enough to almost pass as grunts.

Cas lifted his head, locking gazes with the demon underneath him. For a split second, time stood still. Then, with a loud grunt, he crushed his lips against Dean’s, properly fucking him now.

This was the moment Bela finally managed to let her eyes fall closed. It didn’t block out the sounds though, the ragged breaths, the guttural moans. They seemed to rip right through her, more exhausting to listen to than the torture and the screaming. She wanted to block it out, to pass out, anything. She was just so tired. But she couldn’t.

The obscene sounds of skin slapping on skin became more fervent, faster, less rhythmic, the grunts louder. Then, for a moment, it seemed to stop – another slap and grunt – one more – release.

Cas felt himself coming down from his high. His legs were shaking and his ass felt painful enough for him to have bit his knuckles bloody in the past. He didn’t do that anymore, though. The pain now simply made him smile. Where he used to feel hollow, he now felt lightning flashes of pain surge, accompanied by a dull throb and the feeling of Dean’s come slowly dripping out of his hole, together with small droplets of blood.

He looked at the demon in front of him, whose eyes were fixed on him. Dean’s face and neck were covered in blood, but after a quick inspection Cas realised it was Bela’s, coming from his hands. He must have rubbed it all over the other man. He didn’t remember doing it, but the end result was quite the art piece.

He smiled the lifeless smile that now had become his, and leaned in to kiss Dean on the lips. The demon didn’t kiss him back, but that was okay. Dean didn’t do gentle. When he kissed Cas on the mouth, it was for tongue fucking. This kiss was Cas giving and Dean receiving, just as they had done it for these past few months.

Slowly, the two men became aware of a sound. Cas turned around, seeing Bela in her chair, eyes closed, body shivering. They had completely forgotten about her. But now, Cas’ attention was completely on Bela again.

It was almost as if she was chanting.

“Please, master, please… Please get me out… Please save me master…”

Cas tilted his head again, pulling his trousers up without taking his eyes off her, completely fascinated. “I don’t think he’s coming,” he said in earnest.

Bela shook her head wildly, tears running down her cheeks. “Master, please…”

He stepped forward, letting a finger that was covered with dried, smeared blood, rest against her cheek to catch the wetness. Her eyes snapped open as she tried to pull away from his touch, gasping. “No, please, master, please -”

Cas pressed his hand over her mouth, suddenly leaning in close, his face an inch away from hers, while pressing his finger against his lips. “Ssh… Don’t.” The inquisitive look in his eyes had become hard. He was done playing games.

He quickly looked back at Dean, letting the question of whether or not he was allowed to take the interrogation into his own hands as well lie in his eyes. Dean gave a simple nod, and Cas whipped his head back around to Bela, carefully taking his hand off her mouth.

He grabbed a chair and sat down next to her, the knife once again in his hands. He let it roll between his fingers, savouring the reaction it drew from the weaker demon. Her eyes had widened upon seeing it again, and she found herself straining against the tight bonds again. “Please, master…”

Cas tilted his head a little. “Your master isn’t coming, Bela. He has abandoned you. You’re nothing to him.” For a second, his memory flashed dark with his own slit wrists. When he looked up again, he knew more time had passed than it had actually felt like. Bela was still pleading though, not paying him much attention.

He looked at her again. “Listen to me, Bela. You’re not getting out. You’re not going to live.”

He frowned for a moment. “Why do you have such faith in your master? Why won’t you spill any intel? Dean said you were a selfish little rat. Why this… loyalty?”

Bela’s eyes focused on him, and for a moment she didn’t speak. But then the pleads started falling off her lips again. “Master, master please come, get me out, please…”

Cas leaned in, stroking her hair. “No, Bela, no. Don’t you see? There is no loyalty for demons. You can’t trust any of them, can’t rely on any of them. Not a single one.” Her eyes were wide, but she didn’t stop chanting.

Cas leaned in even closer, examining her face, her eyes, which switched between grey and black again like flickering lights. “What’s so special about your master? What makes you think he’s different?”

She didn’t respond. She was frozen with fear, staring into his vivid blue eyes.

“Come on, Bela.” He looked back at the Knight behind him, who was staring back at him with black orbs as eyes. “I don’t want to disappoint Dean. And neither do you.”

Still no reaction.

Cas sighed. “Okay, here’s how we’re going to do this.” He stood up, towering slightly over the lesser demon. “I’m going to ask you a few very simple questions, and you’re going to answer. All I need is one word for each answer. One word. That’s not too hard, now, is it?”

Bela swallowed. She was tired, she was terrified. She didn’t want to spill. But she felt all control, everything, just slipping away. She closed her eyes, part of her hoping it would keep back words as well.

“How many months since you’ve been released from Hell?”

She swallowed. “Three,” she whispered. The words fell heavy from her tongue, yet it felt oddly relieving to say them, as if the weight was falling off her.

“Was your master good to you? Did he take care of you?” She let a breath slip from her lungs, almost inaudibly shaping the word “yes”.

“Has Dean ever met him?” This time, it almost sounded like Bela let out a laugh. “Yes,” she huffed again.

Cas sunk down to his knees, now at eye level with the woman. “I want his name,” he said softly.

Bela swallowed again. Could she? Could she give him up?

She was going to die. He wouldn’t be the one to kill her, he wouldn’t be able to take revenge on her. She wouldn’t ever see his disappointment, and everything that would happen to him would not be her problem, because she would not be there. She would be gone.

“Sam,” she whispered. “It’s Sam.”

Cas straightened himself up, a cold satisfaction settling on his face. “Thank you,” he said with a small smile.

He plunged the knife into her throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHAHAHAHA! No seriously, were any of you shocked by this? Did you suspect it to be Sam? I mean, you knew he would be in this story... But did you expect it to go like this? Tell me all! But yeah, review, send requests, and have a lovely day :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Next update already, days pass so fast! And I've been neglecting writing this story, it's getting so difficult now (I'm at chapter 19, guys, so you'll be fine when it comes to updates)... Anyway, warnings: smut, blood!kink. Also, I'm sure there's angst in this fic, but I suck at spotting it, so just so you know, there'll be some angst, if not in this chapter then almost certainly in the next. (Tip: I listen to dark music when writing this. If you pass the ~666~ mark within the chapter, you could put on Mighty Fall by Fall Out Boy, like I did. It's quite fitting.)

Dean was frozen in place.

After Cas’ quick kill, the man had wiped the knife on Bela’s clothes like he had seen Dean do it on the first night they met. He had looked up for some form of approval on the demon’s face, but Dean hadn’t even noticed. So Cas quickly sped to his side. “Dean.”

Sam, it’s Sam…

“Dean!”

It’s Sam.

Sam is a demon now.

“…Sam?”

Dean finally looked up. “What?”

“Who is Sam?” Cas stared at him, fear and concern in his eyes. Don’t leave me alone, Dean. I’m right here, I’m here for you, don’t leave me behind.

 “You mentioned him once I think, Sammy? The one who drank demon blood, right?”

Dean’s eyes finally cleared up. The one who drank demon blood. “Yeah. That’s the one. That’s Sam.” “So who is he? How do you know him?”

Dean abruptly stood up. “Let’s get out of here.” “Dean!” The demon turned around with lightning speed, his eyes black again. “That’s an order, Cas! I don’t want to spend another second here!”

The shorter man’s breath hitched. Dean would never tell him. He would never trust him with anything. Hiding Cas’ past from him, hiding his own.

Suddenly, he felt the rage of the night they met rise back to the surface. With a furious snarl he shoved the demon against the wall.

“I give you everything. I rip myself apart for you, I kill myself for you… I don’t even know you! You’re a demon, a Knight of Hell!” He gave the man a shove that was hard enough for his head to bang against the wall. “I have given everything for you! Don’t you dare to leave me with that. I need you to give something back, Dean! Anything!”

As they were now, Cas was completely dependent of Dean. This wasn’t a bond, it was a child clinging on to a ledge above an abyss. He needed the demon to give something back, to make it a two-way street, to stretch out his hand and pull Cas up.

Instead, Dean drew back his fist and punched.

The world turned black.

~666~

When Cas woke up, the first thing he noticed was a raging headache. The second was his bed.

“You brought us back home?” Home. Funny how this dump was home now. “Yeah, I did.”

Cas sat upright, pressing his hand against his pounding head. Dean was sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to the other man. His shoulders almost seemed slumped. But how could that be on a Knight of Hell?

“Dean?”

“I couldn’t – I just couldn’t.”

Dean didn’t know why, and he would never admit it, but he had needed the safety and familiarity of this room to think about everything. This was a big deal, and he couldn’t just tell Cas. He had needed to come home first. Not that this room was home to him. More of a home base. Sort of.

Dean sighed. He didn’t know it anymore. He was getting tangled up in strange sensations and thoughts.

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered. It was all way too noisy in his head right now.

So he turned around and crushed his lips against Cas’.

Both men groaned, but Cas seemed uncertain of what to do. He tried to press himself into Dean completely, wrapping his arms around the other man, never wanting to have to let go, but at the same time he tried to push the demon away.

“Dean,” he managed to grunt between them. “Dean, tell me -”

But the demon ignored him. No, not now, not ever, just, no, please, not now… He pulled at the other’s shirt frantically, ripping it in the process. Cas quickly gave up pushing Dean away, and just buried his face in his neck, moaning softly when Dean once again sunk his teeth into Cas’ shoulder, where a beautiful crescent-shaped scar was forming.

With a growl, Dean ripped both their trousers off and went to lie back. “Hey!” the shorter man yelped. “I liked those! There were some good memories attached to them!”

The demon snarled. “Shut up and ride me, Cas!”

Cas stared incredulously at the other man. Things were bad. Dean was crashing. So he did what he knew he was good at; he gave himself completely to the other.

He spat in his hand, but it wasn’t good enough for Dean, who bit down on his own hand, at the same place as during their first time, making himself bleed and slicking himself up with it.

Cas could only stare at Dean’s cock. “Blood doesn’t work as lube, Dean,” he managed to bring out hoarsely. But Dean’s black eyes somehow seemed pleading. How could Cas deny that?

He bent over and wrapped his lips around the demon’s erection.

The coppery taste hit his tongue.

The taste was… warm, but – no, it was like a burning sensation, as if it glowed gold in his mouth too.

It filled him with strength, with energy, adrenalin, endorphin, anything and everything all at once.

It was delirious.

Cas wrapped his tongue around Dean’s cock, licking, tasting, slurping, swallowing. The demon groaned, but it wasn’t enough.

Dean grabbed Cas’ shaggy black hair and pulled his head up, connecting their mouths again in a wet, sloppy kiss. “I think that’s enough lube,” he growled. “Now, ride me.”

The blue-eyed man stared into the demon’s black orbs, trying and failing to measure anything. He bit his lip.

“Cas!”

Cas sunk down on Dean, immediately beginning to move. The demon needed it right now. He grabbed Dean’s hand and sucked hard on the wound, the blood numbing his pain a little and heightening all his senses at once.

This. This is what Cas had been missing. It had become more and more difficult for him to come during sex. They had needed to do more and more. But the blood… The blood did it all. Cas threw his head back, groaning loudly, sucking down on the wound harder. The energy surged and hummed through his body, almost better than an orgasm.

He hadn’t noticed that he had stopped moving, all his focus on the hand between his lips.

“Cas! Come on, Cas!”

His eyes opened a little, but nothing else changed.

“Cas, come on, man, I need you here!”

I need you, Cas.

Cas’ eyes snapped open.

I need you, Cas.

Memories surged around him in technicolour.

Abusive father, cowardly mother? Jimmy. Siblings? Castiel. Accountant? Jimmy. Getting fired? After.

Falling.

Pain.

Angels.

Demons.

Grace.

Stolen Grace, draining.

Souls.

God. He had been God?

Sam.

Dean.

A handprint, getting seared into the man’s very soul.

Death.

Killing.

 War.

“Who are you?”

“Castiel.”

“Yeah, I figured that much. I mean what are you?”

Dean’s eyes had become green again, now wide with fear. He had watched Cas’ back straightening. His previously dead blue gaze was becoming more alive and vivid again, a fire burning in them. That stare that could pierce right through your soul was quickly rushing back into those eyes. And mixed with it all was a fury that promised at least someone ending up dead or at least seriously injured.

Cas looked down upon the demon.

He was getting fucked by a Knight of Hell.

He was getting fucked by Dean.

He was getting fucked.

Oh, how the mighty fall.

He leaned over, coming in close, too close for Dean’s liking. In different times, two giant shadows of wings would be spread out over the wall behind them right now.

“You have twisted truths and spewed lies, Dean Winchester,” his deep rough voice sounded, cutting right through the terrified demon beneath him.

He wrapped his hands around Dean’s throat.

“You have mutilated me, ruined me, fucked me, abused me.”

Dean swallowed, his breath not being constricted. Not yet.

“My name is Castiel.”

He leaned in just a little closer, his upper lip curled ever so slightly in a silent snarl.

“I am an Angel of the Lord. I am a Warrior of God.”

With that, the last few brittle walls of Dean’s life came crashing down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I was not expecting Cas to get his memories back this soon, but hey, this story seems to have almost been writing itself so far, and I like it! Give me comments, reviews, requests, anything, and I will love you forever! And of course, have a nice day :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mentions of smut, and in the first sentence mentions of blood!kink. Also, side-note: I realise a Knight of Hell with the Mark of Cain is basically undefeatable. But Sam was really strong. To make things more interesting, I sort of made it so that Sam has the potential to take Dean down. Sorry if that messes with the (head)canon.

Castiel had walked out the door, leaving Dean to stare at the ceiling, his cock still out, smeared with saliva and his own blood.

As a Knight of Hell he might have lost any trace of sentiment or the ability to feel any strong emotion, but that didn’t mean nothing could get to him anymore.

And right now, Dean felt desperate, hollow, ashamed for the way he was left bare and vulnerable, and scared.

Scared… what would a Knight of Hell be scared of?

Cas. Or Castiel again now.

The look in the Fallen angel’s eyes, his body language, everything had been so similar to when they had first met. Dean had stabbed and scolded an Angel of the Lord. A proud one too. One who hadn’t started doubting himself or his Father yet.

“I pulled you out of Hell, and I can throw you right back in. So you should start showing me some respect.”

Castiel had been terrifying.

And then there had been the news of Sam.

Little Sammy, who had been out of Dean’s mind for months now, had apparently stepped up in his brother’s absence to take up his old title of Boy King. Sammy, who was now out to challenge Crowley.

Sam and Crowley had never gone up against each other. But somehow Dean felt that when the situation came, Sam would win. Easily. He had always been powerful, he had killed Alistair and Lilith. And that was without having reached his full potential.

So if things came to it, Crowley would likely ask Dean for help. He would need the power and strength of a Knight of Hell. And Dean would have to fight Sam.

Had Sam been a normal human being, Dean wouldn’t have given a shit.

But this was different.

Dean didn’t want to face his brother. He was too big of a coward. And he didn’t want to die. Not yet. And definitely not like that.

But somehow, what scared him the most right now, was not knowing anything, not knowing where to go from here. Even worse, the fact that that scared him. That was just wrong.

He had fallen into a rhythm with Cas; go out, have fun, come back to Cas to tell him about it, have a fuck, go out again, and come back again in the evening to leave in the night, when the other man was asleep.

Cas might have seen it as being used, as being a plaything. And it had been like that in the beginning.

But Dean had quickly found himself addicted.

And then they had started to become equals.

But the thing is, if you want a frantic, rough fuck, you have one.

Kissing, on the other hand, is something far more intimate. Even the rough ones Dean would give.

Had it been just about the sex, Dean would have taken what he wanted and left Cas behind, used and spent, the way he did it the first time.

Instead he would barge in, desperate to press his lips against the other’s. He had always made Cas come, even when it became more and more difficult. He had shared stories and brought food when he could have sent Brad or anyone else to feed Cas.

He had gotten tangled up. Things had become complicated.

The door swung open and Crowley came striding in. “Tuck your dick back in your pants, boy,” he said bluntly. He came to stand next to the bed while Dean hastily did what he was told, and put down a bottle of Scotch with two tumblers.

He sat down on a chair by the bed. “I think it’s time you and I had a chat, don’t you think?”

He poured himself a drink and waited for a moment for Dean to respond, to no avail. He sighed. “Look, if you’re going to become apathetic because of this, then I have no choice but to say ‘I told you so’. Because I did. I said this was going to turn itself around and bite you and me in the arse, and now it has.”

Dean finally sat upright, pouring himself a drink too now. “What do you want, Crowley? Apart from pointing out the obvious?”

The King sighed again. “Look, Dean. I just need you to realise that you made a mistake by bringing Angel Boy home. Because I feel that you still don’t see that.”

Dean’s head snapped up. “Damn right I don’t see it. How exactly did I make a mistake here?”

Crowley stared at the Knight for a moment, eyebrows pulled up. “Really?” Dean simply stared back defiantly. “Honestly, is poor eyesight a genetic Winchester trait? Because I swear, you and that moose of a brother of yours have always been blind as bats!” Something sparked in the other demon’s eyes for a moment, but it was quickly tucked away again.

The King shook his head. “You’ve had strong emotions for the guy ever since you met him, Dean. Now, as a demon, that doesn’t really affect you like it would when you were human. But it does complicate things a hell of a lot. By choosing him over a random fuck, you just got yourself tangled up in a mess that you won’t be able to just climb out of.”

Dean put down his glass and traded it for drinking straight out of the bottle instead, drawing a horrified “hey!” from the other man, which he  ignored. “Look, Crowley, I really don’t care for your wisdom and lectures right now. I just need to get shitfaced.”

The King pulled the bottle out of the Knight’s hands. “Well don’t do it with my best Scotch, then.” He looked at Dean’s face. “This isn’t just Castiel, is it?” The man didn’t respond. “Dean, what did Bela tell you?”

Dean’s gaze travelled to the filthy floor. “It’s Sam,” he answered after a short silence. “Sam’s all juiced up, claiming his Boy King title.” He looked up. “And he’s after your head.”

Crowley swore loudly, drawing a big swig from his bottle.

“Well, if that’s the case, we’re basically fucked. That guy was still a sensation story before he decided to hulk out on us. I’m guessing it’s not all too difficult for him to find followers, especially after the whole Abaddon ordeal.”

Dean nodded, taking the bottle from the other man and taking a swig, then giving it back again. “Yeah. We’re fucked.”

Crowley stared at the bottle for a moment, then put it aside. “We’re gonna need something stronger than Scotch.” He stood up. “Come on, boy. I know a place with some quality human blood.”

Dean shook his head. “Thanks, but no thanks.” I’d only take Cas’.

Crowley looked down at him for a moment, realising there was not much else he could do. “Well then. I’m going there, you have that bottle. Tonight we’re going to lose our heads. But I want you back on your feet in three days. Something has got to be done about this, and I’m going to need your help.”

With those words, the King left the room, hands deep in his pockets, shoulders slumped. Yeah. They were properly fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much Andy for leaving me a review, you have no idea how much it means! Really, reading people's reactions, seeing that my work is actually appreciated, is the biggest motivation ever! And yes, I realise this story is occasionally moving at quite a fast pace, I apologise for that, but it sort of goes automatically... But thank you for boosting my confidence, you're welcome to do so again anytime ;) Anyway, leave reviews, requests (honestly, anything is fine by me!) and above all have a nice day!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 14 for you guys! Warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, torture, some self-depraving (I think that's the right word) thoughts. Also, if you're religious, you might take some offense from what Cas yells at his Father. If that is the case, I'm sorry, it is not my intention to purposefully offend or hurt anyone.

Why?

“WHY!?”

Castiel was standing in the middle of a field, shouting at the sky. Sadly, the sky didn’t seem in the mood to answer him.

He grabbed a rock and chucked it against the tree at the edge of the field, the noise echoing around him. “FUCK!”

He fell down in the grass, covering his tear-streaked face with shaking hands. “Fuck…” Now his voice was shaking as well.

He hadn’t wanted to remember. Now that he did, he wished more than ever to go back to his state of ignorance, even if it meant being psychologically chained to Dean.

He had been reduced to vermin, the lowest of the lowest human beings. Begging for Dean to penetrate him. Torturing. Drinking demon blood.

He felt disgusting. He wanted to drink an entire tank filled with bleach, letting the liquid scorch the filth out of his body.

His body that was no longer his vessel.

Castiel was human.

He didn’t know what he hated more; remembering everything, the shame that came with it, or the full realisation that he was now fragile and weak, susceptible to broken bones, manipulation, addiction. Fine, manipulation had already been a problem when he was an angel, but he tried his best not to think about that.

He came up to sit on his knees, rage and shame and fear and anger and everything else surging through his veins.

“AAAAARGH!!!”

Tears dripped from his face.

“Why, why, what did I do Father? Why me? Why this? Why?”

He looked up at the clouds.

“It’s not fair! Do you hear me? IT’S NOT FUCKING FAIR!!!” With each forced out F drops of spit flew from his mouth.

He wanted to scream, to rage, to kick, to tear, to sink a knife into flesh-

He wanted to draw blood.

He gnashed his teeth. Dean had really done one hell of a fucking job with him.

For a second, the memory of the razor on his wrists flashed up again, but he shook it off easily. Yes, he wanted this all to end. He was furious at all of it. But that was just it – he was so incredibly angry and riled up. Making an end to it all just seemed so… anticlimactic. So abrupt. So weak and cowardly.

No. What he wanted right now was to break something, to hurt something, to do damage. He felt an itch under his skin, a burn in his veins.

Castiel looked up at the sky again.

“You know what, Father? No more. I’m fucked up now. And You’re dead to me.” It hurt so much to say it, but somehow he felt so glad he got it out. “If You wanted me not to become this, then you should’ve done something. It’s too late now.”

He felt a grin spread on his face.

“I’m not going to fight this anymore. If You wanted me to resist temptation, to struggle through it and come out a better man, a better angel, to go through some kind of catharsis, well then I’ve got news for You – it failed. And You’re probably disappointed in me.”

He started laughing, his body shaking violently with each breath getting knocked out of his lungs by it. “But You’re dead to me. You’re the one who’s going to suffer from it. Because Your disappointment in me doesn’t mean shit to me anymore.”

He stood up, his face still tilted towards the sky.

“I have been corrupted. And I am going to enjoy this thoroughly.”

~666~

“Dean.”

The Knight didn’t look up. “Go fuck yourself, Jay.”

The lower demon walked into the room anyway, knowing it might kill him. However, if he managed to convey the message quickly enough, he would live.

“Trust me, you want to see this.”

He put down the disk he had been holding and quickly ran out of the room again, a tumbler shattering against the wall next to his head.

~666~

It took Dean two days before he decided he might want to see what was on the disk. Crowley had come back over a week ago, but had decided against going up to talk to the Knight after getting the reports from the other demons about how he had received whores and escorts, and how every single one of them had been returned downstairs with a slit throat, other than that untouched.

Dean sighed and put the disk into an ancient computer that had probably been standing in the corner of the room for ages.

It was security footage, from the office of some guy who seemed to be obsessed with Egyptian stuff. Seriously, there were artefacts everywhere. Why would he want to see that?

Oh.

A familiar shape had stepped into the room. Dean now realised there was sound on this too. He immediately bent closer to the screen.

“Hello professor.” The professor looked up from his papers. “Hello. Can I help you?” Castiel strolled past the shelves, letting his fingers dust over scarabs that were probably worth way too much to touch with bare hands.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, you can.”

He took a moment to study a photograph of Tutankhamun’s mask before turning around. “I want to talk to you about my grade.”

The professor frowned. “Are you sure you’re in my course?” Castiel ignored him, walking up towards him with swaying hips. “Come on, sir,” he said softly. He had shed his gruff voice for velvet that seemed to wrap itself around Dean, causing the demon to become light-headed. “Don’t you remember me? I love your lectures. I’m always the first in.”

Castiel came to stand to the professor’s right side, his body turned to the opposite direction, letting his right hand stroke the man’s left cheek. For a second, the professor seemed entranced with Castiel’s intense blue stare.

Dean felt rage and desire fire up inside him. Cas had never touched him like that. Always so submissive, always giving. Never had his back been straight, his gaze calculating. He had never taken. Dean now wished he had.

Then, the man shook his head, as if to wake himself up from a trance. As if burned, he jumped backward. “Oh no. You have definitely never been in my lectures before.” Dean could almost hear his thoughts. I would remember those eyes. Everyone would.

Castiel flashed a grin. “Alright, you’ve caught me. Still. I almost made you want me to have been there, didn’t I? Imagine it, me in the front row of every lecture. Or even all the way in the back. You would’ve found me.”

He was right of course. The professor swallowed and quickly stood up to gain more authority. Not that it worked. “Who are you? What do you want?”

Castiel’s head cocked to the side a little, a smile on his face again. “I don’t think my identity is important to you.”

He opened a cabinet behind the desk, pulling out a dagger that seemed awfully familiar to Ruby’s old knife. “Your hobbies, on the other hand, are truly fascinating to me.”

He held the knife up against the light. “Using ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs to decipher the symbols and make your own blade? But with slightly different symbols… Are you trying to make it more powerful? More efficient?”

He seemed to expect an answer, but didn’t receive one. He huffed in mock amusement. “Well, whatever it is, it isn’t something you just do from your own accord.”

He turned around.

“Who asked you to do this?”

The professor went pale. “No-one. What do you know about it?” The corner of Castiel’s mouth turned upward ever so slightly. “A lot.”

The other man suddenly jumped forward, throwing the contents of a glass that had been standing on his desk over Castiel.

Nothing happened.

Castiel slowly started walking forward. “Holy water, I’m guessing? Sorry professor, but like you, I’m just a human being. Unlike you, however, I’m doing this from my own accord.”

The professor tried to walk backwards, but the wall was only a few inches behind him. He was trapped.

“I came because I needed to blow off some steam. I needed to destroy something. And I thought I could just as easily be productive while doing it.”

The other man swallowed, sliding down the wall.

“You might not be willing to tell me, but I have an inkling.” He smiled again. “I’m guessing you’re doing this for Sam, Boy King of the demons.” The professor’s eyes widened. Bull’s-eye.

“I just want to know one other thing, professor.” He sank to his knees, his face an inch away from that of the terrified man who was now huddled up completely. Hah. As if it would keep him safe. Castiel’s voice had become rough again, deep and commanding. Angel of the Lord, Warrior of God.

“I want to know where he is. I want to know where he’s going next. I want to know the moves he’s planning.” The professor finally looked up, his eyes huge. He was doomed. “I don’t know,” he brought out hoarsely.

Castiel smiled, bringing up the knife to the other man’s face. “Then tell me the name of someone close.” “Bela Talbot!” the man squeaked.

Castiel’s face hardened. He had fucked up. He had killed Bela too quickly. But there was nothing to be done about that now. “Dead,” he spoke. He brought his face closer, his eyes shining cruelly. “Do better.”

The professor’s eyes flashed from side to side fervently, sweat pouring down his forehead. Suddenly his face lit up. “Bradley! Bradley Hill!”

Brad.

Son of a bitch.

Castiel tilted his head again, a smile lighting up his features. He was terrifying and so, so beautiful.

“Thank you.”

This time, Castiel didn’t stick the knife into his subject’s throat. Oh no. He slashed and hacked, he stuck it almost horizontally underneath the man’s skin to proceed ripping said skin off, using the knife to make it easier. He ripped out hair, cut off a piece of the guy’s ear. There was no escape from Cas’ rage as it rained down on the man. Screams echoed through Dean’s room. And all the while, Castiel couldn’t stop smiling so widely his cheeks were probably burning from it.

When he stepped back, the professor was hardly recognisable as ever having been human. He was still wailing though. How could that thing still be alive?

Castiel walked over to the desk. There was an instrument lying there. “You know, Egypt has always annoyed me to no end,” he said calmly, not caring that the professor wouldn’t understand a word. “The gods are so arrogant, even though their time has long passed.”

He twirled the instrument in his hand. It looked like a slim silver rod, but with a strangely shaped end. “However, the people did some truly fascinating things. I’m sure you knew this – they confused the workings of the heart with the brain, thinking it was the heart where emotions and such were controlled. That’s why they supposedly wouldn’t need their brains in the afterlife.”

He turned around. “The heart was left of course. But they removed the brain. In such an interesting way too. No opening up skulls as coroners do. Oh no.”

Castiel sank down to his knees, next to what Dean could only presume was the professor’s head, and dragged the man upward, causing him to wail again. He grinned like a child in a sweet shop. “I’ve always wanted to use one of these.”

He rammed the rod into the professor’s nose. A loud crack sounded when he broke through the bone. A second later, blood and bits came streaming from the holes. The professor fell to the floor like a ragdoll. And Castiel giggled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huh, will you look at that. When I made Brad up I didn't think he would turn out to be a traitor. The more you know. Also, I have now finished writing this story, it's 24 chapters and an epilogue long. So send me those requests for more stories! If you wanna know what kind of requests I'm willing to take, check out my profile :) Also, if you want to read more stories like this one, I got the idea of Dean corrupting Cas from Captivated by deathtoonormalcy on FFN. Some other SERIOUSLY DARK AND GRAPHIC stories of quality I read lately that you can find on AO3 are the Sociopaths in Love series by Annie D (scaramouche) (she’s amazing!) and the Off the Reservation series by emwebb17. Now, review, send requests, and have a nice day :)


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick update before I go to the pub for the first time in my life... Yay, college life! Btw, anyone as excited as I am? Demon!Dean starts tonight!! S10, YAY!!! Anyway. Warnings: bit of torture, vague mentions of smut.

Dean didn’t know what to do – laugh like a maniac or run like hell. Because that? What Castiel had become? That was truly fucked up. And no-one was safe from that.

And Castiel was coming back. He was on the hunt for Brad, and Brad was right at Dean’s side. Somehow the Knight didn’t feel like Cas would simply let him be.

So what should he do? Tell Brad, so the dick would run and lead Cas away?

The thought only lingered for a moment before Dean started laughing hysterically.

Oh Hell no.

He wasn’t going to tell Brad. That went against everything he stood for, even when he had been human he wouldn’t have done that. Besides… The thought of making sure Castiel wasn’t coming his way hurt. It was crippling.

No. He wanted Cas right here. He wanted to see this new, marvellous creature up close, wanted to see the damage he could do. He wanted to witness Castiel ripping apart the traitor in their midst. And most of all, he wanted to taste the new Cas. Even if it might kill him. But somehow, despite being terrified of the Fallen angel, he felt that he still had a grip on the man. He was still an influence. He might be able to do this.

For the first time in over a week, Dean walked downstairs, where he was awaited by all his demons, including Brad. So no-one told that dick about anything. Good. “Gentlemen.” He gave the room a nod. “Dean,” they nodded back.

He looked around. “Don’t you all have something better to do?” This caused almost all the demons to rise up from their seats and leave, save for three or four of them. Including Brad. The demon walked towards Dean and placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s good to have you back in the game, Dean.”

Rage shot up within the Knight, but he suppressed it. Instead he flashed a grin. “Thanks, Brad. Feels good to be back.”

He looked around at the other remaining demons. How many of them could he trust? Other than Brad, that was. How many of them were there to keep an eye on him? Tell Sam everything that was going on, tell him about Dean and his fucked-up relationship with Cas.

 Fuck.

Sam would know. Of course Sam would know. Not that Dean cared about his brother’s opinion. But it was a weakness, and Sam would easily see it. And if he was in any way similar to Dean as a demon, then he wouldn’t hesitate to use it.

He looked at Brad again, disgust curling in his abdomen. “I’ve had enough of this dump. Let’s go out, find ourselves a few pretty birds.”

He quickly thought about the footage. There had been a Stanford flag on the wall as well as all the Egyptian posters and diplomas. That gave Cas, what, three days to get here? By the time Dean and Brad would come back from their fun, the Fallen angel would be there, waiting for them. The thought caused Dean’s blood to run a little hotter in his veins.

~666~

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hey Cas,” Dean grinned when he stepped back into the bar, looking a lot more confident than he felt. By the way Castiel’s eyes narrowed he could see the Fallen angel had seen right through it. Of course he had. He always had been able to do so.

Brad on the other hand hadn’t noticed anything transpiring between the two, that or he was an amazing actor. “What are you doing here?”  “Shut up, Brad.” “No, Dean, the guy got to you, and then he just stormed out. And you’re just going to let him back in? I’m sorry, but I can’t allow that.”

This made Castiel chuckle. The sound seemed to make Brad aware of the change in the other man. His confident posture seemed to deflate a little as something behind his gaze fell into place.

Castiel’s and Dean’s eyes locked.

The Knight could see the question in the other man’s eyes; how much did he know of what was going on, of what Castiel had done, of Brad?

He gave a slow nod.

Castiel grinned coldly, his voice drawled out sarcastically. “Why Brad, I’m here for you of course!”

And in that moment, their roles were suddenly clear again. Cas the torturer, Brad the victim, Dean the audience. The Knight took a seat in one of the armchairs. Let the show begin.

Castiel walked towards Brad, slowly circling him. “Dude, what is your problem?” The Fallen angel just laughed humourlessly. He pushed the demon down onto a seat and sank to a crouch.

“I’ve been asking around, Brad. Guess what I found out…” he singsonged softly. Brad’s eyes widened. He tried to get up, but Cas plunged the demon blade he had used on Bela deep into the other man’s stomach, causing him to cry out.

Dean frowned. “You don’t want to kill him, Cas,” he commented, but Cas just smiled. “How many demons do you think I’ve tortured so far, Dean? I’ve had over a week behind me of searching. I’ve picked up some tricks.”

He turned back to Brad, who was half draped over the chair, gasping and shaking in pain. “Like the places I can stab without immediately killing them.”

“CAS!”

Brad had pulled the knife out of his own body and was now going straight for Cas, who simply took one step backwards. Brad seemed to hit an invisible wall. The human smiled. “If only I had some ultraviolet light… Took some scrubbing before I could draw a proper trap though.”

Of course. The angel had already been here, waiting for them. Dean sunk back into his own armchair while Cas picked up the knife, studying the light as it reflected off the hilt, his eyes cold and calculating. He turned back to the demon.

“That wasn’t very nice, Brad. I hope you won’t try that again.” The other didn’t respond. He was just clutching his stomach, trying to keep his own insides, well, inside him.

“Okay.” Cas sunk down to a crouch again. “You’re going to listen to me carefully, Brad. Are you listening?” The demon gave a small nod. “Good. Now. All I want to know is where Sam is.”

Brad’s eyes went wide. “Fuck,” he breathed. Cas laughed. “You thought you could keep your treason hidden? Are you really that naïve?” Dean smiled, recognising his own words to the Fallen angel almost with fondness.

The lesser demon swallowed. “I don’t know where he is.” The blue-eyed man gave a small smile. “Liar, liar, bones on fire…” He took a step back again and opened a bag on the floor. A skull came rolling out.

“What’s it going to be, Brad? Intel or pain?”

The demon shook his head, sweat pouring down his face. “If I tell, Sam will be the one to torture me. If I don’t tell, you will torture me. If you kill me, you won’t know anything. Whatever my choice is, I’m going to be in pain and then I’m going to die.”

Dean silently cursed. Brad was right. But Cas just laughed. He laughed so hard that tears formed in his eyes. By the time he was finally catching his breath again, both demons were seriously confused.

“Wise words, Bradley, spoken by a true thinker.” He sniggered at that, but stopped himself before he would lose it again. He locked gazes with the lesser demon, letting his blue eyes almost burn holes into the other man’s head.

“Think some more, Brad. You’re a demon. Are you really going to prolong the pain out of loyalty? Are you so determined to see Crowley lose his crown?”

He came closer again, only just out of reach. “You can tell me now, and all of this will be over. Yes, I could let you go and let Sam have his way with you for your betrayal. You fucking deserve it.” The demon swallowed. “But I’m not going to. You see, that would give you the opportunity to warn our little Boy King. And that is something we really can’t use. So if you come clean now, I will give you a quick, clean death. How does that sound?”

Brad’s eyes flashed back and forth between the two men watching him. After a minute of a silence that was only broken by the steady dripping of blood, he finally spoke, his voice shaky. “Okay.”

Dean grinned. Cas was good. Smart too. Damn, this was all way too hot.

Cas grabbed a chair for himself, sitting down on it back to front, straddling it. “So, spill.”

And Brad started talking. According to him, Sam was using warehouses and abandoned buildings to meet up with other demons. He would use a ritual to summon them, trap them, then talk to them. College boy Sam, who once wanted to be a lawyer. Yeah, that guy could talk alright. He would convince dozens of demons at once, always staying on the move to remain undetected. Those who showed any signs of not feeling convinced were killed off.

He had a few demons scattered in important places to keep an eye on Crowley and Dean, just to be sure of what was happening. He couldn’t go into Hell, that would cause a sensation that would surely reach Crowley’s ears, so he had to learn everything about what was going on there through the use of the demons that stayed closest to the King. And Brad was definitely the most important guy.

And as for Sam’s plan? Well, he wasn’t Abaddon. He wasn’t quite going for the huge army thing, using souls to gain in strength. Instead, he had decided to go up against Crowley – and Dean if he had to – on his own. The demon pep-talks he gave weren’t to rally soldiers but to gain followers. He had learned from watching Crowley, and he knew that this was indeed amongst other things about politics.

It was a coup. He was slowly taking over Hell, gaining more and more followers for loyalty. And when the time came, he would walk up to Crowley and kill him. The gaining of followers was simply to make sure they wouldn’t rise up against him when this happened.

“Where is he right now?” Cas asked. Brad shook his head. “I don’t know. We don’t meet face to face, and he never tells me, just to be on the safe side. He wants to prevent you guys from taking the fight to him.”

Cas nodded. That made sense. “And when do you think he’ll strike?” Once again the demon shook his head. “I think he’s like at a third of his goal for the amount of demons he wanted to convert. When he has enough, he’ll let them slaughter the others while he gets Crowley.”

The Fallen angel got up and walked towards the demon, who seemed to drift in and out of consciousness. He put a hand on the man’s head, as if he were petting a dog. “Well done, Brad. And thank you.”

He pulled out a syringe, which Dean realised was filled with holy water. Brad’s breath caught in his throat. “You said you would give me a quick death,” he rasped. Cas flashed a grin. “Yes I did. Here’s some news for you, Brad: I might be human, but that doesn’t make me more trustworthy. Basically…” He sticks the needle into the man’s eyeball with an almost bored look, save for the fire in his eyes.

“I lied.”

~666~

The screams lasted for a few hours before Brad became to hoarse to make proper noise. Cas, knowing how Dean felt about sound, decided that the lesser demon’s vocal cords had now outrun their use, and burned them out with salt.

After hours and hours of blood and pain, Brad’s body finally stopped moving. Cas stood over it, panting slightly, his blue eyes almost black from the dilation of his pupils. Dean grinned. His angel looked so beautiful like this… He stood up, walking towards Cas, planning on unbuckling the other man’s belt and give him a reward for his hard work.

Except he couldn’t. He was stopped after two steps.

He looked down to the floor.

The armchair he had been sitting in, had been standing in the perfect position for watching the torture when he had returned. And the floor around it was incredibly clean.

“Son of a bitch,” he growled.

When he looked up, he saw that Cas was suddenly standing two inches away from him, his lust-blown eyes burning, filled with fury. “I think it’s time you and I have a little talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, a cliffhanger. Because I'm evil like that. Also, I'm currently working on my Avengers private school AU fic. It has like 6 or 7 pairings, though no real smut, and the rating will definitely be lower, but still. I'll probably start updating that in a week or two, if you're interested :) Now, don't forget to review, request (seriously, those two R's are all the motivation one could possibly get - they make it so utterly worthwhile. Or in Satan's words: "Pay attention to me, I'm bored!" Nah, kidding. Though they do make me feel very happy :) ) and most importantly have a nice day!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy mother of sin, 10.01!! Made me squeal a few times (like when Crowley ordered Dean to sit down next to him at the bar and Dean refused, I immediately went 'omg I have that in my story, my HC became canon!! :D', or when I was convinced the people who were booing Dean off the stage would end up killed - my dear friend LillyCasterwill was expecting that to happen too). But anyway, yes, warnings: smut, mild blood!kink, blood-addiction, that kind of stuff. Enjoy!

Dean could feel his heart almost beating out of his chest. He was supposed to have been the one with a firm grip on Cas, not the other way around.The Winchester trait of emotional blindness and denial. He had truly been an idiot.

Cas was simply staring at him for now, but it was enough for the demon’s insides to start feeling like they were being liquefied. “Sit.” He sat down, while Castiel circled around him, looking down on him, the mix of arrogance, calm and a fierce anger from when they first met written all over his face. It was only now that Dean realised with a shock that the Fallen angel was wearing his old outfit again, trench coat, sex hair, crooked tie, it was all there. He was the old Castiel again, even despite the blood splattered all over him.

It was goddamn hot.

It was fucking terrifying.

It was as if Castiel had truly become an angel again, as if Dean could see the Grace burning behind his vivid blue eyes. But the angel had taken one step off the path and had broken in all the wrong ways.

It wasn’t Grace burning behind the man’s eyes.

It was insanity.

“Where did all this come from?” His voice was low and gravelly, his eyes narrowed, the way it had always been. Dean had missed the early Castiel, he realised. Not a lot, but now that he saw it again, he felt a strange fondness for that version of the man.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Suddenly, the Fallen angel was right next him, his hand gripping the demon’s throat so tightly it actually hurt. Damn, where did the guy get the strength from? He was human, for crying out loud!

The thought didn’t linger for long before Dean found the answer. He could smell it. Residue of his own blood in Castiel’s veins. He started to laugh.

“I corrupted you more than I gave myself credit for,” he managed to wheeze out after a minute. Castiel frowned. “What, can’t you feel it? The hum in your veins? Tell me Cas, is it intensifying now that you’re so close to me? Don’t you feel the desperate crave for more?”

The Fallen angel’s eyes seemed to flash with something feverish, and almost as if he wasn’t aware of it, he leaned in a bit.

Dean grabbed Castiel by his throat, lifting him up from the floor just a little. “Shouldn’t have come so close, Cas.” He laughed again. “Oh, you arehooked. Now there’s something I can use.”

He threw the other man out of the trap and quickly bit down on his own hand before Castiel could recover. The taste of his own blood hit his tongue. A grin spread on his face. “Come and get it, darling.”

For a few seconds, Castiel just stood there and stared, panting harshly, sweat beading on his forehead. Then, finally, he sprang forward with a frustrated growl, pinning the demon down. He grabbed the other’s hand and sucked on it hard. Dean just laughed. Finally.

Cas threw his head back, moaning when the taste finally hit his tongue again. Oh, he had missed this, he wasn’t going to deny it. His body had burned with want, with need, with ‘desperate craving’ as the demon had put it.

Now that the heightened sensations raged through his body again, he looked down upon Dean.

He had wanted that too.

No more giving. Not anymore.

From now on, he was going to take all.

With his new strength, he ripped his own and Dean’s clothes off, throwing the torn fabrics into a corner. He grabbed the duffel bag behind him and pulled out a packet of lube. His turn now. He slicked his straining hard cock up and pushed in without preparation. Dean was a Knight of Hell; he could take it.

Dean was everywhere. Oh, this was unlike anything Castiel had ever known. His one time with a woman didn’t even come close. It was tight, it washot, it was all around him. Dean’s scent filled his nose, the cologne he remembered from all those times where he had been in the other man’s personal space. But how could he not? With the warmth and scent and energy that Dean radiated, he had always felt the need to stand so close, feel the heat.

Castiel realised now that it hadn’t been enough. Even the rare hugs he had received had been… satisfactory, but not enough. He had needed to be closer. Skin on skin. Being topped by Dean was, in retrospective, the best he’d had so far, but not enough. He wanted to crawl under the other man’s skin, wrap himself in it, feel Dean all around him.

And now he did.

There were no grins, no smiles, no laughs. It was nothing but grunts and groans and snarls, both of them wearing the same intense fury on their faces as they had when beating each other up in the past. There was just pounding, skin slapping against skin, grunting.

When Dean seemed to get close to coming, Castiel’s eyes narrowed in calculation. Suddenly, he bent over, sinking his own teeth deep into Dean’s shoulder, causing the demon to come with a loud shout. “Cas!”

He gave a few more good thrusts, and while sucking on the Knight’s shoulder wound, he too came with a grunt, then rolled off the other.

They stayed like that for a while longer, lying next to each other on the floor, the silence only broken by their breathing which was settling down again now.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Dean looked at the man next to him. “What question?”

“Where did all of this come from?” Cas pressed, now sitting upright, his legs folded, neither of them covering their naked bodies. His pupils were still somewhat dilated from the high that the demon blood had brought him. “What made you decide to invite me along with you, to do this to me, of all people? There are so many random people you could’ve chosen to rip apart, to toy around with.”

Dean knew he wasn’t going to get out of answering. He sighed.

“Look, Cas, to b- to be honest…” He took a moment, sighing again. “Ah, fuck…” He scrubbed his face with his hand, the movement making a soft scratching noise on his stubble.

“I don’t know, okay? I just don’t fucking know.” Cas just stared, waiting for more, not settling for this answer. The demon let his eyes drift to the side, giving the tiniest of shakes with his head. “I just don’t know. Crowley said…” His gaze fleetingly met Cas’ before he looked away again. “Crowley said I already had strong feelings for you before I turned.”

Cas cocked his head a little. “Our profound bond.” For a second Dean felt his hand twitch, as if wanting to touch the handprint on his shoulder. “Maybe.”

Cas scooted closer carefully. “I’ve always felt this – this pull, you know…” the demon continued. “Argh, fuck, never mind, I don’t even know what I’m talking about.”

The Fallen angel had come even closer. He stretched out his hand. Dean’s eyes widened. “Cas, what are you…” The hand touched the scar.

It was like fire or raw alcohol on a wound, pain blazing through the handprint. Cas got thrown backwards and went flying against the bar headfirst, getting knocked out cold.

When the stars retreated from Dean’s vision, he saw white-blue light swirling, then fading within the scar tissue. He swallowed heavily. “Um, Cas?” Finally realising that the other man was unconscious, he struggled to his feet and walked over to him with difficulty. The devil’s trap was broken now, with the two of them having spread come, lube and blood everywhere.

“Hey, Cas, come on, man, don’t leave me hanging with this.” He shook the Fallen angel, pulling a groan from him.

“Cas!” He helped the other to an upright position. “Cas, why did my scar look like there was Grace in it?”

“What?” Cas opened his eyes, blinking against the dim light. He tried to reach out to Dean, but the Knight grabbed his wrist. “Oh hell no, we’re not gonna go through that again,” he growled. “Just take it from me. Man, that fucking hurt.”

Cas swallowed. “I think I might have left some Grace when I saved you from Hell,” he responded. “Your soul was ripped to shreds, I needed to fix it somehow.” His eyes fixed on Dean’s. “What I’m wondering though… It’s my own Grace. Why would it reject me?”

“Oh, was that what it was?” the demon muttered. “It threw me across the room, Dean. It might have stung for you because you’re a demon and it’s Grace, but it actually attacked me. Even another angel’s Grace never reacted so violently to me.”

The Fallen angel stared at the handprint, a sadness in his eyes that seemed out of place for this new creature. “I guess I will never be able to go home.”

Dean grabbed Cas’ wrist. “Hey. Look at me.” After a moment, the other lifted his gaze to meet the demon’s. “You really wanna go back to Heaven? To your ‘brothers’ and ‘sisters’? ‘Cause I don’t think that’s a good idea anymore. I don’t think you’re really an angel anymore. There’s no redemption left for you, Cas.”

He thought for a moment. “Maybe that’s why the Grace won’t accept you anymore.”

Castiel remained silent. He wasn't an angel anymore. No ties to Metatron, Gadreel, not even Gabriel. That last one stung. Over time he had grown fonder with the thought of the obnoxious Archangel. He quickly tucked the pain away though.

He looked at Dean again, and there must have been something in his eyes that the demon had seen, for the other was starting to smile reassuringly. “No redemption,” Castiel repeated. “Full corruption.” Forever Fallen, forever soiled.

He could live with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't expect myself to put in Dean's handprint when I started writing... Oh well, it's in now and it will have some meaning! So, I'll try and upload next week, but I might get a little off-scedule since I'll be home again and my laptop might just be located in the living room.. So if that happens, you can always go and read my Avengers private school AU, Vengeance Club, of which I have now started uploading. It won't contain actual smut, and the rating is T for now (might change though, but not sure). So, review, request, and have a nice day :)


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a shorter chapter this time. I'm just glad that I can upload, you know, being home and around parents again.. (Laptop is safely in my room ;) ). So, warnings: smut and mentions of blood addiction.

Crowley had come back not long after. He had shouted a little at Dean over the mangled body on the floor, but after hearing what Brad had told them, he had simply nodded. Castiel had offered to go on the hunt for Sam, seeing if they could indeed bring the fight to him before his group of followers would become too big. He felt sad about fighting his old friend, but if it meant saving Dean, then it didn't matter. Sam was no longer his old self anyway. Crowley had accepted the offer with open arms, and half an hour later the Fallen angel was gone again.

And it drove Dean nuts.

He had stayed behind. After all, he would prove to be nothing but a distraction to Cas. But that didn't mean he had wanted to stay behind.

He was furious at his angel. So he wasn't allowed to leave Cas, but Cas was allowed to leave him? The shorter man had walked out on him for the second time now. Apparently he was no longer necessary, only there to quench the other's new-found thirst for Dean's blood.

Feeling bitter and rebellious again, the Knight had left the bar to scour the local strip clubs for some entertainment. The girls there were as beautiful as ever. But he noticed that they couldn't satisfy him. They hadn't quite been able to before he had run into the Fallen angel either, but now he saw why – they weren't Cas. There would never be a woman that would be as beautiful to him as Cas was.

"AAARGH!" With a scream he threw a barstool against the wall. The bouncers dragged him out, and for once he didn't call on his demon strength and let them. He wasn't in the mood to stay anyway.

When had this happened? How had this happened? How had the tables been turned so drastically that he could now no longer survive a day without Castiel but the Fallen angel was just fine without him?

He returned back to the roadhouse where he and Cas had stayed, despite the rage and want that the sight of that building brought to him. He nearly threw the door out of its hinges upon entering, and the demons sitting there were smart enough not to look at him. He ignored them as well, steaming right past them up the stairs, back to the room he had locked himself into the last time his angel left.

Fuck, this is messed up, he thought as he sat down on the bed, dragging his hand down his face with a groan. He closed his eyes.

Oh, he could still feel it. Cas inside of him. Of course he could feel it. The man had been hyped up on demon blood, and he hadn't gone slow. He had been rough. He had pounded himself deeper into the Knight with each thrust, making his mark within the other more and more permanent.

He had finally realised that it hadn't been about giving, but about taking. And Dean had stood by and watched helplessly as Cas took everything, leaving him with nothing.

Stood by and watched? Practically handed it all to that son of a bitch on a silver plate, Dean thought bitterly. But how could he not? Castiel had been everywhere, above him, around him, inside him. He had filled the demon up until his scent couldn't be washed off the Knight's skin anymore.

Dean could still smell him.

It was a mix of sweat, blood, alcohol and something else, a deodorant maybe, or something else, smoky sweet with a bitter tang to it. A smell that he could only describe as Cas and blue, something that went with his eyes and shaggy black hair so perfectly…

Eyes that had burned with fury and desire and madness. Eyes that had screamed for the drugs that were demon blood and slaughter. The rush that came with both was unbeatable. And the way he had pounded into Dean on that floor, Dean had felt it too. It had been intoxicating.

Dean laughed a soft, broken, bitter laugh.

He had broken down Castiel. But he had broken himself too. And Sam would be able to use it.

He was completely and utterly screwed.

~666~

It had been three days.

Or, at least, Dean thought it had been.

He didn't know anymore.

What he did know was that he was now properly losing it.

Cas was probably going even more insane than he had already been too right now, having to go without Dean's blood. But that thought wouldn't have even come to mind, and if it would have, Dean wouldn't have given a damn.

He was lying on the bed, sweat dripping down his face, his body writhing against the mattress. Every now and then, he would cry out "Cas!" with a broken voice. The demons downstairs once again knew better than to come up and try to do something about it.

Dean could now properly feel the sweat pouring past his eyes, half dripping into their corners. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror on the other side of the room; his eyes were bloodshot, his face red with exertion. He looked as if he was crying. He couldn't care less.

His gaze fell on the bottle of lube.

Fuck.

Why didn't he think of that before…

He grabbed it desperately, quickly slicking up his fingers. He wasn't hard, but that didn't matter. That wasn't why he did it.

He shoved them in on at a time, not taking enough time, searching for the burn he remembered. The fullness. Cas.

He started fucking himself, rough and hard. But it wasn't good enough, it wasn't what he was looking for. It was just his own fingers.

With a feverish cry he shoved in a fourth finger, closing his eyes, desperately trying to recall those vivid blue eyes hovering above his face, the lean man's body rocking into his, the smell, the soft skin, everything, anything.

"CAS!"

Why wouldn't it work!?

"Come on!"

If he just –

"Please…"

The door flew open with a bang.

Too exhausted and shocked, Dean simply slumped, not bothering to pull out his hand or pull up his jeans or even covering himself up with the blanket. He simply stared at the doorway.

God, it felt like an eternity since he had seen that face.

"Need a hand with that?"

What?

Dean finally pulled out his hand. "No thanks," he replied with as much coldness as he could muster in this state. He grabbed a tissue and cleaned off his fingers. Trying to put as much authority into his voice, he finally turned back to the doorway, giving the other man a defiant stare.

"And what do you think you're doing here? You were supposed to -"

"Where I was supposed to be is really none of your goddamn business, now, is it, Dean?"

The Knight stared the other down for a moment.

"Maybe not."

A grin formed on his face, one that definitely did not reach down into him. "Well, if anything, it's nice to see you again, Sammy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE MOOSE HAS LANDED! Also, someone Anonymous apologised for retreating from my story because of the Wincest in it, saying he/she didn't mean to offend but didn't want to read any further. Dear Anon, if you're still reading for now, or for anyone else for that matter: I'm not offended. Fanfiction is full of triggers (hence the warnings). I'm glad you stuck around so far, it means you do appreciate my writing. Do not worry, I am not offended. Everyone should read what they're comfortable with. Anyway, review, request, and have a nice day :)


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for updating a day too late! But I was really busy yesterday.. And now this is a short chapter too... Oh well, at least I updated I guess. And there are no warnings :) (Okay, some coarse language. But that is seriously the least of your worries when reading this fic.)

It was not nice to see Sam again.

Dean was fucking terrified. Sam wasn’t supposed to be here, he was supposed to be in some warehouse, being hunted down by Cas. Not here. Not now. Dean wasn’t ready to die yet.

“Are you coming?”

“What?”

Sam gestured for Dean to follow him downstairs. “I’m rallying Crowley’s gang to gather in the bar. You’re not gonna want to miss this.”

“Actually, I think I’ll pass, thanks.”

“Dean.”

Wow, really, the Bitchface?  Dean hadn’t expected the Boy King to still use that. He sighed. “I’ll be right down.” Sam nodded and left the room again.

There wasn’t really another option. Well, he could run and try to find Cas, but somehow he just didn’t feel up for that. Frankly, it sounded exhausting. And he was actually quite curious to what Sam was thinking of doing. After all, Dean wasn’t dead yet. So there must be something interesting going on.

Dean followed his brother down, where everyone was gathered. Crowley was there too, trying his best to send the Knight signals by wiggling his eyebrows like a maniac, but Dean simply frowned and shook his head. Not yet. The King furiously threw his hands up, but didn’t comment or take any other action.

Sam was standing in the middle of the room, his height adding to the image of him being the most important person there. It clearly didn’t please Crowley, who in comparison just looked like a short grumpy man in the corner.

That was another thing; Sam seemed oddly calm and graceful. For a second Dean feared he was staring at Lucifer, but then he remembered that the Archangel was trapped in the Cage.

Unless they pulled him out again.

But no; there was too much evidence to prove otherwise. Brad had said Sam had drunk demon blood. Also, the bitchface from earlier and the plaid he was wearing just didn’t seem very Lucifer-y. And it wasn’t entirely… There was something about Sam. Something that Dean hadn’t seen when he had been possessed by Lucifer.

Oh for fuck’s sake.

A fire in his eyes.

Just like Cas.

When Dean had turned, he had sort of lost all his passion. Sam, on the other hand, seemed to be burning with it.

“You’re probably wondering what’s going on.”

Yeah, you could say that.

“Well, my right hand, Bradley Hill, also known to you as Brad -” at this an outraged murmur spread through the bar – “didn’t report to me for three days. I feared the worst, so I came over. And I was right.”

The Boy King turned around to face Dean. “You killed him. You and Cas.”

For a second, Dean’s heart stopped. But he soon found his breath again.

“Well, technically that was all Cas.”

“Still. My right hand is dead, and you and Crowley know of my plans.”

The rest of the room seemed to fall away. It was just Dean and Sam now, staring each other down. And Dean was seriously losing.

“What are you gonna do now, Sammy? You gonna kill me? You gonna end your big brother? Don’t forget it was me who always took care of you, Sammy! I was the one who carried you out of that burning house!”

Sam shook his head. “You know, I really don’t give a damn about that right now.” Dean swallowed hard. “So this is it then? You’re gonna end me, then end Crowley?”

For a moment the younger brother frowned in confusion. “I’m not going to kill you, Dean. Or Crowley. Not now anyway. I’m here for the others.”

He looked around, and Dean suddenly became aware of the other demons again. “I’m gathering followers, remember? And I don’t have enough yet to just kill Crowley. So I’m taking his entourage.” The Knight’s memory flashed. Always with the big words, both Cas and Sam.

He shook his head. “You seem awfully certain that I’m not going to kill you,” he drawled. “Mind if I ask why?”

Sam nodded. “Of course. But let me ask you, Dean – would you?”

A beat.

“I scare you, don’t I? There was a time when I was just little Sammy. The little brother you took care of. But then you saw I was stronger than you, more powerful than you. I became the freak of the family. And you got scared of me.”

Dean felt the urge to take a step back when Sam closed in on him, but he held his ground.

“But after all that, when I was normal again, you became big brother to little brother again. You tried to look after me, yet did nothing but patronise me. And now, I’m back in the game. I’m strong again. Stronger than you. And it scares you, doesn’t it?”

Sam was now right in his face, towering over his older brother. “You’re not going to kill me, Dean. You’d die before you’d even think of trying.” He took a step back. “I will only kill you if you provoke me.”

Dean’s mind was racing. Why? Why was he not dead yet? What was Sam thinking, letting Dean live when he could just as easily get rid of him? The Knight was of no use to him.

And then, it all became clear.

Dean had a choice.

Oh, how could he have been so blind?

He smiled, for the first time in days feeling as confident as he looked. Sam saw the realisation in his brother’s eyes, the choice he had made. He smiled back. “Shall we?”

“Hold on just a fucking second!”

The brothers looked back. They had completely forgotten about Crowley. “What is going on? Dean?”

The Knight grinned at the King. “That’s adorable, don’t you agree Sam?” The taller man laughed. “That’s one way to put it.”

Dean stepped forward. “Look, Crowley, we had some fun together, but really, did you honestly think I was going to stay with you?” The King paled. “You see, Sam is just so much stronger than me, if I had to defend you, I might not make it out. So I’m doing the smart thing. I’m taking the path of survival.”

He gave Crowley a small pat on the shoulder. “I’m going with Sam.”

The shorter demon was shaking now. “But what about all the -” “No loyalty amongst demons, that’s simply how it works!”

Dean then turned around and followed his little brother outside. Crowley shouted some things after him, but he didn’t listen anymore. He was going to live. And he was going to celebrate excessively.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone even remotely interested, I wrote a T-rated Stucky oneshot called Kinda went there :) It, and my Avengers private school!AU fic Vengeance Club are to be found on my account. If you want more things, please, request! (I am reading Star Trek crack stuff again and I want to write one so badly but I have no idea where to start or what to do with it, so send me little themes or whatever if you would like me to write one! Also, I'm kinda in the mood for a prison!AU of SPN, but you will probably have to ask me to write one..) Anyway, yes, review, request and have a nice day :)


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god, here we go. The infamous moment where Wincest starts. I realise that some people started reading this for Destiel and are not okay with Wincest, but there are tags now and the story is complete, so.. Warnings: blood addiction, smut, incest.

A week.

A whole fucking week.

You’d think Dean would’ve contacted Cas to let him know they weren’t going after Sam anymore, but nooo, not a fucking word.

Cas had to find out through some low-life demon. “The Winchesters? I don’t know where they are, man, let me go!” “I’m looking for just the one, really.” “Don’t you know? They’re together again. No stopping them now. Crowley’s gonna get crushed.”

He threw the guy’s skull against the wall, where it smashed into pieces.

Panting, he stared at the bone fragments and bits of splattered flesh.

His hands were shaking.

A week without Dean’s blood had been hell. His muscles were burning, his mind was screaming its voice raw, his bones felt like they were cracked everywhere. And now it turned out he hadn’t needed to leave in the first place.

In all his cleverness, he had overlooked one simple thing – killing the most important source of intel of your opponent was never going to go unnoticed. Of course Sam had showed up. He could have predicted that easily.

Except he hadn’t.

And now he had no idea where Sam was, where Dean was… He was stuck. Stuck without Dean’s blood. And he had no intention of going through rehab. This was the sweetest addiction in the world, and there was no way he was letting it go.

Though it was starting to look like he didn’t have much choice in the matter.

With a growl he turned around walked out of the building. His efforts to find the two men had to be kicked up a notch.

~666~

Dean was lying on a motel bed, one woman at his feet and another straddling him, trailing her hands down his chest. He tried to enjoy them, he did, but it just wasn’t interesting anymore. They couldn’t grab his attention like a certain pair of vivid blue eyes could.

The door flew open and Sam came walking in. “Ladies, do you mind?”

Dean scoffed. “They do,” he answered for them, grabbing both their wrists. “You’re not going anywhere, now, are you? Just ignore the big guy.” They giggled. “Yes Dean,” they crooned.

Sam went to stand in the centre of the room, arms folded, Bitchface in place. “So, Dean,” he said, “when exactly did you start taking it up the ass from Cas?”

Dean groaned and pressed his head back into the pillow while the two girls just looked at him in disgust and hurried out of the room. “Dude, did you have to?”

The younger brother shook his head. “Honestly, Dean, that’s going to get us caught. The whole telling hookers your name thing, them knowing of two brothers sharing motel rooms.” Dean scoffed. “Well you’re the one who told me I could indulge myself while I stay out of your way.”

He propped himself up on one elbow. “And why exactly, by the way? Am I really that useless to you? Why did you even want me here?”

Sam squinted his eyes a little. “You know what? Quid pro quo.” “What?” “I answer your question if you answer mine.”

For a moment it was silent until it hit Dean which question he was referring to. “Ah, dude, come on, really?” Sam just looked at him stubbornly. “Bitch,” the Knight muttered. “Jerk,” the Boy King responded.

Dean sighed. “It was once, okay?” Sam barked out a laugh. “No it wasn’t.” “Yeah it was.” The younger brother’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? In all the time you two…” Dean shot up. “Okay, I really don’t see how this is any of your business. I answered your question, you answer mine. Quid quo.”

Sam sighed and shook his head. “Quid pro quo, Dean.” He only received an empty gaze for this. “Never mind. What was it again? Oh yeah. I wanted you here because you were a hazard on Crowley’s side. And you’re not really of much use to me in my campaign, so yeah, I’m leaving you alone for now. Well, mostly.”

Dean shook his head. “Yeah, but if I’m no use to you here and you didn’t want me there then why didn’t you kill me? Why do you want me?”

The younger brother frowned. “I… I’m not sure.” Well, that felt out of place. A demon full of fire and passion who isn’t sure of something. “Old habits, I guess. I just wanted you by my side.”

He took two big steps forward until he was standing almost against Dean. “Besides, your strength is going to be of use in the future.” His voice had dropped a little, turning into a half-growl.

Dean frowned. “Dude, what are you doing?”

“My big brother,” Sam continued in that deeper voice. Husky voice. Pupils blown.

What the hell?

“Having given himself to the angel.” “Dude -” “I was there first!”

Okay. Had everyone around Dean lost his goddamn mind!?

“I was always there, sharing a room with you, looking after you as well as you were looking after me. But you were always after the pretty girls, weren’t you, Dean? Not that it mattered. Sure, it annoyed me to no end. But I didn’t realise…”

His breath was hot on Dean’s face.

The Knight hadn’t moved an inch.

Hadn’t stepped back.

Sam was just so… present, towering over him, his body heat radiating…

Apparently it wasn’t just the people around Dean. It was Dean himself too who’d lost it.

“Not until I saw you there, squirming, begging, screaming for the angel, making such gorgeous noises – for another instead of for me…”

The words had made something click in Dean’s brain. He had been aching for Cas for almost a week now, missing his body, his eyes, his voice, his cock filling the emptiness within him. Missing the insanity and the fire and the pain.

And here was Sam, seemingly offering him something similar.

Could he do that? His own baby brother?

He forced out a laugh. Knight of Hell. Really, incest wasn’t exactly something on his morality list. Given that he didn’t have one.

“You jealous?” he taunted.

Sam growled, grabbing Dean’s neck and pulling his face so close to his own that they were literally a hair’s breath away. “I can share,” he responded. “But that does mean that I have to be in the equation.”

Dean chuckled. It all felt very strange, almost wrong if he had been able to feel stuff like that. But he wasn’t.

Sam in the equation? That could be arranged.

He closed the distance, crushing their lips against each other.

Oh, this was different. New. The smell of Sam could now be connected to a taste, the feeling of chapped lips against his own. Drier than Cas’. He quickly pushed the angel out of his mind. That was for later; he wanted to explore this new thrill with all his attention.

Oh, and it was a thrill. Wrong? Perhaps. But that made it so much better. If Dean ignored being topped by Cas, then this was the first thing since having become a Knight that truly made him feel alive again. Even though the killings had been able to make his blood rush in his veins, it had been nothing like this.

Sam was in a way similar to Cas, like fire. He was aggressive and needy and strong. His body was completely different though. It was muscular, trained for strength as well instead of just cardio. It was more tanned, smooth, and so much bigger. Cas had been everywhere in a psychological way, while Sam had a far more physical presence.

Stop comparing. Start enjoying.

He growled as he bit down lightly on Sam’s lip, trying to draw a similar response from his younger brother. Little Sammy, who had always been so full of judgment and anger. The judging was gone now, leaving so much more room for the anger to blossom. Of course Sam was the demon with fire. He’d been like that as a human too.

To Dean’s joy, Sam responded to the bite by shoving his older brother up against the wall, groaning when their erections rubbed against each other, the jeans between them creating extra friction. “Let’s get these off,” Sam huffed, and with a snap of his fingers the clothes were gone.

Sam took a step back to catch his breath, giving the Knight a chance to properly see his brother for the first time.

The younger man’s hair was a mess, his pupils blown, his chest rising and falling slightly as he panted, a matching tattoo his older brother’s right above his heart. As Dean’s gaze travelled down, he realised Sam was properly hung. That didn’t come as such a big surprise, though, with a big body like his. He grinned, feeling his dick twitch with excitement from the thought of feeling that in his grip, hot and pulsing.

Because there was no way he was going to let Sam top. That was only for Cas. Besides, Dean was the older brother here. He was technically higher ranked too, being a Knight while Sam was just a powerful demon. Not that he was ever going to say that to the other’s face. Supposedly only the First Blade could kill the likes of Dean, but he was still certain his little brother could at the very least do some serious damage.

The Knight grinned. “You want me, little brother? You’ll get me.” With a growl he crossed the distance between them and put his hands into the other man’s hair, yanking hard on it, causing his brother to let out a sharp hiss as he tilted his head back and giving Dean full access to his throat.

The older brother immediately latched on, sucking and biting softly, drawing moans from the taller demon. He chuckled hoarsely. His hand sank down between their bodies and grabbed Sam’s already leaking dick. “Damn, Sammy, you’ve grown since the last time I saw you like this,” he joked. They had been, what, five and nine? The last time they had actually shared a bath in a temporary home. After that John had made sure it didn’t happen again, finding Dean becoming too old for it.

He started pumping, twisting his wrist every now and then to draw a moan from his younger brother. He swiped his thumb over the slit, smearing precome over the shaft. “So good, Dean, more…” Sam groaned, pulling on Dean’s hair with an iron grip.

Dean laughed a raw laugh. “Never thought little goody two-shoes Sammy was such a little slut,” he said. “Dean!” Sam snarled, causing his older brother to chuckle. “Don’t worry, Sammy, I’m on it.”

He sank to his knees so his younger brother’s dick was right in his face. It smelled surprisingly familiar, from the times he had returned to the motel room after Sam had gotten rid of his nightly amusement. Yet it was so much more concentrated this time. Oh, and it smelled good. Pheromones and sweat and Sam’s own jizz, all there.

He laughed again, softly this time, and with a wicked grin he took his brother in with one swift movement, feeling the hot member hitting the back of his throat. He swallowed, feeling mighty pleased with being a demon – no gag reflex. Sam let out a loud groan, throwing his head back. “D- Dean!”

Dean wanted to move, but Sam still kept his older brother’s head in place with an iron grip. Instead, the Knight found his face being used as a simple fuckhole for his little brother’s pleasure. And damn it if that didn’t turn him on. His own erection was standing prominent, bobbing heavy and leaving a sticky wet trail on his own stomach. He barely managed to take two-third of his brother down, Sam was that big, filling Dean’s mouth and stretching his lips to the brink of discomfort.

Sam kept fucking his face as Dean jerked himself off, both men grunting out their pleasure. It was almost too soon when the younger brother locked up and squirted his come down the Knight’s throat. Dean swallowed, then pushed Sam back onto the bed and straddled him, giving himself a few more strokes before coming all over his brother’s chest.

He fell to the side, chuckling softly while grinning like a maniac. “Well, that was fun.”

Sam was about to make a snide remark, but at that moment the door flew open with a bang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Did I do okay? Because that's the first time I have written Wincest, and I hope it was accurate enough or any good.. There's going to be Wincestiel too, and that's one that really makes me nervous (never written a threesome before either - this is all incredibly new terrain for me). But please, please, review, and request (fun fact - there have been NO REQUESTS SO FAR, not counting LillyCasterwill's tiny one because she's a friend who reads everything before I publish it). I don't bite and I love inspiration and I want to provide for what my audience wants, even if it's a tiny audience. So don't be shy!), and most of all have a nice day :)


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very glad to see positive reactions to my story :) Okay, warnings: some mentions of incest. There will only be one more chapter with Wincestiel - I know, sad face... But if you don't really like that, you can just skip it. It's not plot-heavy. Also in this chapter, some.. weird stuff. I don't even know. Self-inflicted wounds, but not intentional self-harm? Ignore me, I'm feeling ill and rambling. Enjoy :)

Sam shot upright. “Jesus, Cas!”

The Fallen angel completely ignored the younger Winchester and went straight for Dean, whose eyes grew huge with the sight of his lover. And no wonder; the guy was covered in scratchmarks, his skin almost completely covered with blood that was still wet at some places, though dry and dark and crusting at most.

Dean tried to scramble backwards, absolutely terrified of the look his angel shot him, but the shorter man was much faster in his crazed state. With a snarl he pounced on the Knight, straddling him.

Dean could now see Cas’ eyes, burning with a feverish desperation, pupils blown wide. It almost seemed out of nowhere that Cas pulled a knife covered in marks, which he drew over the Knight’s chest, then immediately putting his mouth to the wound and sucking hard, his groan vibrating through the demon.

Dean threw his head back against the pillow, letting out a similar sound. The human’s lips against his skin simply felt too good, and he could feel his groin stirring again hopefully.

Oh, God… He was still mad at the man for leaving him, and slightly terrified of his insanity, but damn him if he hadn’t craved for this, for Cas to return to him and taking him in every way imaginable.

A chuckle next to them made both men’s heads snap up, the looks in their eyes equally murderous. Sam raised his hands defensively. “Relax, it’s just me.”

Cas straightened his back, his eyes suddenly growing icy cold. “Yes it is. It is a pleasure to see you again, Sam.” His lip curled upward in a snarl as he got up from Dean. “Though I had certainly hoped this to happen under different circumstances.”

Dean propped himself up on his elbows. “You’re judging us? You’re kidding, right?” As Cas’ gaze settled on him, he lifted his eyebrows. “Okay, apparently not.” “Incest, Dean! If there is anything that goes against the base of nature, it is that!”

Sam stepped into the background. Let them have their lover’s quarrel.

“Dude, you’re the one going round cutting up people’s brains while they’re still alive. I don’t think you have any right to go and look down on me and Sammy’s actions.”

“Were you really so pathetically desperate for sex that you let yourself be defiled by your own brother?”

“Says the Fallen angel who has fucked up so badly that his own fucking Grace throws him against the wall! Look at yourself, man! You’ve been so desperate for a fix that you nearly scratched yourself to shreds! And you go and call me pathetic? It’s like old times all over again! Get off your fucking high horse and pull that stick out of your fucking ass! Open your eyes. Look at yourself. And don’t you ever dare to look down on me ever again. ‘Cause yeah, I’m fucked up. But guess what – so are you. We’re equals in this one, whether you like it or not.”

For a second Dean feared he was going to get ripped to shreds. So he took a step towards Cas and took his face in his hands. The shorter man snarled and tried to pull away from his grip, but he held on tight. “Open your eyes, Cas.” He threw a quick glance at his younger brother who was standing in the shadows, leaning still fully naked against the wall, a grin on his face, one hand lazily stroking his cock. He turned back to the angel. “This is gonna happen more often. So you’d better come to terms with that now. Just accept it. And for fuck’s sake, finally accept yourself. Wallow in it. Enjoy. Stand by my side.”

He pulled the other man closer, his grip unrelenting, staring into Cas’ vivid blue eyes. No mercy in his gaze, no wavering, just cold and unrelenting. “’Cause I still need you, Cas.”

He stepped back a little, though not letting go. “So will you join me? Stride down the streets by my side, as equals?” There was a dangerous, dark shimmer in both men’s eyes. Then, Cas finally grabbed Dean’s collar, pulled the demon towards him and sunk his teeth into the other’s shoulder, making him shudder and moan loudly. “Of course,” he muttered against the wound. “Always.”

And finally, finally, the angel felt it. For the first time in his life, truly felt it. Freedom. In its purest, truest form. He threw his head back a little, unable to hold back the laughter that came bubbling up. He laughed and laughed, tears streaming down his face. Oh, how light the air suddenly felt in his lungs! Free air! Free actions! Nothing forcing him, dragging him, no strings attached to his limbs, nothing directing him or depending on him. Real and utter freedom.

Dean, who had pressed one hand against Cas’ neck and another against his back, was frozen.

It wasn’t the laughter. Oh no, he could deal with Cas’ crazy side, he had been preparing himself for it and had sort of come to accept it.

No. What had frozen him was what he had felt on Cas’ back.

“Cas, what did you do?”

The Fallen angel let out a few shaky breaths before he looked Dean in the eyes again. “What do you mean?”

The Knight grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him around forcefully, making the shorter man wince. “That! That’s what I mean!”

There were two big gashes down Cas’ back, running just next to his shoulder blades. They were soaking his shirt with blood.

“My wings were burning,” Cas said matter-of-factly. Dean’s eyes hardened. “You’re a Fallen angel, Cas. You don’t have wings.”

“Phantom pains,” it sounded from the corner. Of course Sam would know these things. “Isn’t that a thing when you lost a limb in the war?” Dean asked. “Wings are limbs,” his little brother responded with a shrug, still lazily jacking himself off. “Dude, are you done with that? Seriously!” Sam just huffed. “Can have a little fun, can’t I?”

The older Winchester just rolled his eyes and turned back to the blue-eyed man in front of him. “Come on, Cas, let’s get you some stitches. Those cuts are really deep, and my blood doesn’t seem to have done much for them.” Cas just lifted his eyebrow. “Since when do you care?” “Since my most important sex-fix can get sepsis or suffer from severe blood loss and die,” the demon growled back. “Now come on.”

He grabbed Cas’ wrist and took him to the tiny bathroom. He was annoyed at the fact that he and Sam were staying in a dingy motel, but those simply didn’t leave as much of a paper trail, making it harder for Crowley to find them. If he was even looking for them. That sounded like a suicide mission for the King of Hell. No, they were probably safe. Still, there might be some idiot extremists amongst Crowley’s followers. They should probably just lay low for now.

Cas sat down on the tile floor while Dean searched for the first aid kit. They didn’t need that thing anymore these days, so it wasn’t within reach, but for some reason (probably just old habits) they still brought it along.

He cut up Cas’ T-shirt, which had been sticking to the guy’s back and wounds from all the blood. Definitely not salvageable anymore. After that the demon quickly sponged him down, getting rid of most of the blood, though his upper body was still a little sticky and smeared red in places. At least the wounds were clean now.

Dean could now see exactly how much damage Cas had done to himself. His chest, lower back and neck were covered with patches of torn skin, small but sloppy wounds with jagged edges that looked like they were going to get infected and cause the man a lot of pain. But Cas’ shoulders…

The gashes were long and even, cutting to the bone. They ended approximately where the man’s ribcage ended and were clearly made with a knife. What kind of insanity had gotten into the fragile human’s head to destroy himself like that?

Somehow, that was what tipped Dean off. Destroy. Cas had been all alone for over a week. That was all it took apparently.

Dean’s face broke into a grin as his eyes turned black. Oh, that was just too good.

Cas couldn’t function without Dean. And it went even further than that. He now didn’t just need Dean’s blood, or his sex, or his presence. No. He needed Dean to destroy him. To break him into pieces that couldn’t think about stuff like morality or life. He needed to be blasted into atoms that held no responsibility, sanity, weight, guilt.

And if Dean wasn’t there, he would start to tear himself apart.

That was just messed up.

But in the most beautiful, dark, sickening, power-enticing way Dean had ever felt.

He stitched up the wounds with surgical precision, then cleaned everything with alcohol. He could see by Cas’ reaction that it hurt, but the man made no sound. It was almost as if he had shed his old skin with the scratching. He had finally reached maturity, was now grown. A Pokémon in his final form, Dean thought almost proudly as he looked at the other’s back and arms.

The muscles were coiled underneath a tanned skin that was smooth in the places where it hadn’t been scratched open. Dean stretched out his hand, stroking Cas’ back, drawing symbols around the wounds, causing the human to shudder. He might not care about most things anymore, but Dean could still appreciate beauty when he saw it. And Cas’ back, Cas in his entirety, that was quite beautiful.

He let his fingers trail over the two gashes now, drawing the smallest of hisses from the Fallen angel. But Cas stayed perfectly still, not wanting to draw away from Dean’s touch. “These will become scars, you realise that, right?”

Cas nodded slightly. “A reminder of the day where I grew up. Where we came together and formed a whole.” Dean thought about this for a moment, then smiled slightly. “Yeah. A twisted whole, but a whole still.”

He let his fingers spread out with feathery touches, away from the wounds and over the shoulder blades and upper arms. “These should be marked, should be more special.”

Cas turned his head and upper body a little so he could look at Dean, a puzzled look in his eyes. “How do you want to do that?” Dean’s smile widened a little. “I’m not quite sure yet. But I’ll think of something.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, just another reminder that I also have a T-rated story churning out right now for the Avengers fans called Vengeance Club. Also, I might have started writing another Destiel fic, though I have no clue where it's going, or if it will even stay Destiel or if I'm adding Sabriel or anything else or whatever. I don't know. And I have a vague, small idea for a Cockles working in a brothel AU fic. Feel free to tell me if you're interested or if you have a thing you want incorporated into it or if you want something entirely different or anything. Your requests are amazing motivations! So request, review, and have a nice day :)


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I didn't upload yesterday, I was having a life instead of hermit-crabbing in my room with my laptop... But anyway, yes, next chapter is here now :) It is short, sorry. (Especially compared to the stories I write now, those tend to have at least 2000+ word chapters..) But yeah, warnings (I really feel they are unnecessary now, especially after you guys having read the story this far, but I'm doing them anyway to be on the safe side and I'm nice): coarse language, some referencing to incest-y stuff.

It was obvious of course; Cas would get a tattoo. The brothers would go along, having decided to both get one of their own too.

The Fallen angel went for the outlines of wings, sprouting from the closing gashes and fanning out over his shoulders over two-thirds of his arms. Sam got a snake that wound itself around his left lower arm, as a reference to the snake in Eden, reminding him that he was the vessel of Lucifer and the soon-to-be King of Hell. Sam’s tattoo was in a skin colour slightly darker than his own, and Cas’ wings were in dull grey.

Dean found it a lot harder to think of something. In the end though, he decided on two tattoos – one of the First Blade on his lower arm, also skin coloured, and a dark grey one of barbed wire winding itself three times around his torso. If you looked close enough you could see the names of the three men were the barbs – Castiel, Sam, Dean, over and over again. It was a lot of work, but Dean insisted on getting it one session, refusing to have to wait over a week and then get another small part of it done. The tattoo artist wasn’t very happy, but Sam gave a big tip, so there was only a minimal amount of complaining.

After that they went on another shopping trip, since Cas had seemed to manage to rip every single set of clothing he owned.

“Last time, Cas!” Dean exclaimed. “Seriously, take better care of your clothes from now on, or you’ll be walking around naked, ‘cause I’m not gonna go out and buy any more with you!” Sam sniggered. “Not that Dean would have anything against that,” he commented slyly. “Shut up, bitch.” “Jerk.”

Cas smiled warmly. He felt better these days, despite being an obvious mental health case that felt the need to kill someone every now and then. And the brothers seemed to have been united by their equality too. Apparently becoming a demon, or just truly fucked up, did wonders for team Free Will. Strange how life could go. But the little nickname had never felt more appropriate. They were no longer fighting for free will; now, they simply were completely free. And it felt good.

Ten minutes later Cas emerged from the store wearing clad black trousers, a black blouse, black waistcoat and a dark red tie. It looked stunning. He had rolled up the sleeves, only just covering up the tattoo of the wings, but the thought that they were there, looking real enough to fold off his skin and spread out like with the girl in that X-Men film, was enough for Dean to want to reach out and rip the shirt off again to trace the ink with his fingers. Damn, when had he become so touchy?

Ugh, and that ass… Round and firm and perfect. And the new trousers were really showing them at their best. Could there be anything better than Cas dressed well? Heh. Cas naked, obviously.

“Dude! Knock it off with the eye sex, you’re giving the guy a hard-on in the middle of the street.” Dean flashed his little brother a grin. “So? Don’t see the harm in that.” Cas grinned too, his back straight, head held high, hands in his pockets. Completely relaxed. He wondered what they looked like to people around them. He didn’t care about their opinion, but he was curious nevertheless.

Dean swung his arm around the man. “Cas doesn’t mind if he shows his want for me to the world, do you Cas?” Cas laughed. “Of course not.” He brought them to a halt and grabbed a handful of the demon’s hair, pulling the other’s head back a little to then claim his mouth with a groan. Sam just leaned against the wall with crossed arms and a grin on his face.

After a minute or so, the human pulled back again, staring into Dean’s eyes with a dark blue gaze that could cut through granite. “But if you wrap your arm around me in that possessive manner again,” he growled, “I will rip it off and feed it to you.”

Dean stared back defiantly for a moment, then grinned and nodded. “Equals.” Cas smiled. “Yes. Thank you.”

Behind them, Sam cleared his throat. “You guys done? ‘Cause if we go now, we might actually have a lot more time to actually physically fuck each other’s brains out.”

A biker next to them crashed against a lamp post, causing all three men to roar with laughter. “Shouldn’t have eavesdropped,” Dean said.

A woman stepped forward, right up to his face. Cas admired her guts; she was almost a foot shorter than them, but there was a fire in her eyes that the Fallen angel respected. It didn’t wipe the lazy smile off his face though.

“That wasn’t eavesdropping,” she spat in Dean’s face. “You men nearly shouted that out for the entire street to hear.” The Knight frowned a little, though Cas could see the mocking in his eyes. “Is there a problem with that?”

She stepped a little closer. “You disgust me,” she snarled, then whipped her head around to look at Cas and Sam too. “All three of you. This is the most despicable I have ever heard someone talk. And if it’s true, what you’re saying…” She touched the small cross that was hanging around her neck. “Then I will pray for your souls.”

For a moment the three men just stared at her, doing their best to keep their faces straight, but then they cracked up. Sam stepped forward to stand just behind Dean, wrapping his arms around the shorter Winchester’s waist and putting his mouth to his neck, gently sucking and kissing while keeping eye contact with the woman.

“Oh, lady,” he chuckled between kisses, “you don’t know half of it.” “They’re brothers,” Cas stepped in helpfully. The woman’s eyes grew wide with shock. Before she could comment, though, Dean grinned and his and Sam’s eyes flashed black at the same time. “Do you have a problem with that?”

Her jaw dropped. Cas stepped forward and with a soft finger he stroked her cheek, then placed it under her chin and applied some pressure to close her mouth again. As soon as he let go, though, she started properly yelling. He gave an exaggerated sigh and turned around to the brothers. “May I?”

Sam looked around for a moment, looking for any sign of cameras nearby. There were none, and so far none of the bystanders had taken out their phones either. “Sure, go ahead.” Plenty of witnesses, but while there were no cameras, the descriptions would vary too much for many reliable details.

Cas brought his attention back to the woman again. “Listen, lady,” he interrupted her yelling session, “I really don’t care, and neither do they. To be frank, we’ve grown quite tired of you.”

“How dare you!? Seriously, what is wrong with -” in a flash, Cas’ arm came up, silver flashing in his hand. He quickly stepped around her to avoid the blood spraying and gushing from her throat. He was wearing a new outfit after all.

He looked down on her, his head slightly tilted, a coldness in his gaze. “Everything,” he answered her unfinished question.

He turned back around to the demons. “Gentlemen, shall we? I do feel quite drawn to Sam’s earlier remark.”

With that, the three men turned and stepped into the Impala. Yeah, screw laying low. They were gonna find a nice hotel with a good suite, give a nice tip (or a lovely warning, that could do the trick too) to avoid questions and then fuck like there was no tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg, only 3 chapters left... I will miss this story. But don't worry, I'm writing more :) So request, review, and have a nice day :)


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, quick update before my Halloween party. Warnings: incest, smut, bloodkink. Enjoy :)

The ride to the hotel was torture.

Dean had let Sam drive so that he could take Cas to sit on his lap in the passenger’s seat, his erection digging into the cleft of the shorter man’s ass. He kept lapping at the sensitive spots in Cas’ neck and behind his ear, whispering continuously about letting the Fallen angel pound into him, fill him up so good, himself clenching around his favourite human’s cock.

To top it off Sam had put his hand between both men’s legs, his lower arm rubbing against Cas’ hard-on while palming the bulge in Dean’s jeans, only retreating when he had to shift gears. Needless to say, at the end of the drive Cas was whimpering, his limbs shaking, hands clenching – for Dean had forbidden him to touch himself.

But the human had more strength and endurance than most people would think upon seeing him. Though feeling as if his knees could give out any moment, he walked into the hotel alongside the brothers with his back straight and his head held high, hard defiance in his eyes.

And yeah, maybe people were staring at the three men and their matching bulges, but Sam made sure that no-one asked any questions (with money, deciding it might be a little more effective – after all, getting the police to drop by would just be annoying). Two minutes later they barged into the penthouse, Sam removing their clothes with a little demon magic.

Oh, sweet release.  Cas pressed his body and lips against Dean’s, skin against skin, heat radiating between them while Sam went and stood behind his older brother, stroking and kissing and – pulling a knife out of nowhere. Cas’ eyes narrowed, and he grabbed the younger Winchester’s wrist.

For a moment their eyes locked. Dean didn’t seem to notice; he was too blissed out from the feeling of Cas against his chest and Sam against his back. His fingers trailed the gashes on the human’s back, causing him to arch forward, pressing himself against Dean with more force.

“How do you think I got my strength, Cas?” Sam asked softly while stroking his brother’s hip with his free hand. “Don’t think I don’t have to continue drinking demon blood now that I’m one myself. I need this too, just like you.” His gaze settled hungrily on the pulse on the Knight’s throat. “No better source than a Knight of Hell,” he whispered hoarsely.

He drew the blade across Dean’s throat, creating an inch wide superficial cut. Blood drops welled up, glistening and beautifully dark red. Sam whipped his head down and started sucking, drawing a guttural moan from his older brother.

Cas felt a fierce possessiveness surge through him upon seeing this. With a growl he grabbed the younger demon’s hair and yanked his head back, exposing smeared blood on both the man’s mouth and his own lover’s neck. For a moment his gaze switched uncertainly between the two options, but then he pulled Sam in and kissed him fiercely, prying the Boy King’s mouth open with his tongue and tasting Dean’s blood, burning like golden fire in his mouth, drawing a deep groan from both of them.

The three men untangled themselves for a moment to move to the bed where Dean lay down, Cas sitting next to him on the edge of the mattress. He dragged his hand over the neck wound and spread the Knight’s blood on his own cock, looking up with husky eyes. “Sam?” The younger brother smiled and willingly knelt next to the human to wrap his lips around the other’s member, who let out a shuddering groan.

One of Cas’ hands shot to Sam’s hair, gripping it tightly, while his other went to Dean’s face, his fingers brushing against the Knight’s lips, who eagerly took them in in his mouth and started sucking.

“Wet them up nicely,” the Fallen angel managed to bring out with a wrecked voice that sounded like boulders scraping against each other. Dean hummed around the digits and started properly licking them, one hand on his own dick, the other tracing Cas’ tattoo and forming scars.

It was all too soon for the Winchesters when the human pulled Sam’s head back by his hair and drew his fingers from Dean’s mouth, both brothers letting out a soft whine. To compensate, Sam got up a little and leaned in to kiss his older brother deeply.

The Knight’s eyes grew wide when he felt Cas’ hands on his side, and with a demon blood-fuelled strength suddenly found himself flipped over. The shorter man quickly shoved one, then two fingers slick with Dean’s saliva into his hole, making the demon grunt and buck his hips into the mattress, desperate to get some friction.

Cas pressed his underarm against Dean’s shoulders, his voice a low growl in the Knight’s ear. “Lie still.” Dean groaned, but obliged nevertheless, despite his achingly hard and leaking cock. His knees were shifted upwards a little so that his stomach couldn’t touch the sheets anymore, his legs spread, his ass raised into the air a little so his hole was on perfect display.

“So pretty,” Sam purred, letting his fingers brush his older brother’s spine ever so lightly, causing an intense shudder to ripple through the older man. He smiled and came to stand behind Cas, who was now kneeling on the bed behind Dean to have perfect access for his fingering and scissoring. Every now and then he would tease his lover’s prostate lightly, drawing moans from him. But Dean held his own and never moved an inch.

Sam leant forward. “Put his hands behind his back,” he whispered in Cas’ ear, his eyes going fully black from the prospect and power surge that went through him when the blue-eyed man obliged and Dean’s face got pressed into the mattress by his own weight. The Knight grunted when Cas pushed his arms a little higher than comfortable, but the sight and feeling of it made all three men’s cocks drip with precome.

“Beautiful,” Sam panted. He knelt down and spread Cas’ cheeks, his gaze hungry. He started lapping at the rim, drawing perfect sounds from the Fallen angel.

Cas finally drew his fingers back and lined himself up, then pushed himself in with one hard thrust, pounding into Dean’s prostate and causing the other man to shout out his pleasure. “Hh- CAS!”

For a moment he just stayed like that, draping himself over Dean’s back, letting the feeling of the man’s tight hot heat, like a furnace, like hell, around his cock, the feeling of his bare sweaty back against his own chest, overwhelm him. The feeling of Dean everywhere, his straining muscles, smelling his scent, his sweat, his pheromones and precome. And there was extra stimulation too now, Sam starting to thrust his tongue into Cas’ hole. Could it get any better?

Of course it could.

He fisted Dean’s hair, smiling at how it now had the perfect length for this, for them, and turned the green-eyed demon’s head. “I want you to look at me,” he grunted. Dean smiled, his eyes flashing black for a moment.

Then Cas started to move.

To make sure he wouldn’t knock Sam out cold by thrusting his entire ass back, he just gave short but violent thrusts with his hips, squeezing Dean’s wrists to let the man know that he could now finally move. With a “Thank fuck!” Dean started thrusting backward. Cas could hear Sam jacking himself of with wet slaps of skin on skin, mixing with the obscene slapping of himself and Dean.

The grunting and slapping formed a symphony, the darkest composition, filling the room with its beats without melody apart from the occasional deep groans that wove through each other. It slowly built up, became more frantic, louder, more erratic as pleasure heightened.

Cas let go of Dean’s wrists, and the Knight used this to his full advantage to now properly throw his body back on his lover’s cock, feeling how it filled him up and moved within him. He threw back his head and moaned loudly.

Cas, on the other hand, used his now free hands to pick up the knife they used earlier and started to draw symbols into the demons back with a dark smile. Had he been a demon himself, his eyes would be fully black.

Sam came up behind him, sucking hard and biting on the human’s neck. “What does it say?” he asked between mouthfuls of Cas. The Fallen angel groaned from the sensation, and spread the blood with his bare hands, feeling it covering his own skin, hot and sticky, its metallic scent filling the air. He felt his own nostrils spread a little to catch as much as possible of that scent. “It is Enochian. It means ‘the equal of the shield of God’, which is the translation of my own name.”

Dean groaned loudly, throwing himself back against Cas again. “The equal of Castiel,” Sam said, his voice strained from arousal. Cas nodded, bending forward again to trace the symbols with his tongue, causing the Knight beneath him to moan and arch his back with a shudder.

Sam groaned. “Cas, I -”

Cas nodded and made room for whatever Sam wanted. The younger brother immediately pressed his mouth against Dean’s wounds, tasting the blood, letting it cover his face. He gave a few more tugs on his own dick, to then finally come, aiming for Dean’s bare shoulders and the handprint-shaped scar.

The splattered come made the skin light up for a moment. That sensation was the last thing Dean needed to come into the sheets himself, groaning and shuddering as his orgasm rippled through him in violent waves. His back muscles clenched and unclenched, and finally Cas too came with a loud shout, filling Dean to the rim with his own semen. He gave a few last thrusts before all three men collapsed in a heap, panting out their pleasure.

Cas fell asleep within minutes, but Sam and Dean, who didn’t need sleep, stayed up the entire night, spending it by stroking each other and making each other come several more times.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg, second to last chapter... Warnings for this one: small mentions of smut. Yeah, think that's it. Really, why do I even still do these at this point? I mean, you got this far. Oh well. Enjoy :)

“I’m bored.”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Are you now, Cas? Is fucking Dean for 90% of the time and then having me join in for the other 10% not interesting enough anymore?” His eyes darkened, his voice dropped, and Cas suddenly remembered that Sam wasn’t his old self. He had always been able to intimidate, but he was far more at ease to do so now. And he was actually fucking terrifying.

“Are me and my brother getting tedious?”

Cas had been traveling and living with the two possibly most powerful demons in the world for a while now. Yeah, Sam was terrifying. But it didn’t really have the desired effect on him anymore. He straightened his back, his eyes as calm and emotionless as they were when he had spoken up.

“You are not getting tedious, Sam. I am simply getting restless.”

Dean walked in from the bathroom, completely naked apart from a towel wrapped around his head to keep his hair from dripping. “What do you mean, getting restless?”

Cas stood up from the armchair he had been sitting in and pressed parted lips against Dean’s mouth, hot breath skimming the Knight’s lips until he opened up and let the shorter man in to receive a proper tongue-fucking. “I’m bored, Dean,” Cas muttered, his voice like velvet. Sam would not be manipulated he knew, but Dean he had wrapped around his finger.

“Bored, eh?” Dean chuckled darkly, but Cas could hear his displeased undertone. “What, me and Sam not entertainment enough for the human?”

The Fallen angel pulled back a little and the demon almost followed. Oh, he might be acting tough and displeased, but Cas definitely had him in his pocket. “Come on, Dean. Talk to your brother. Surely you want to do some other things as well?”

Dean closed his eyes for a moment and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a heavy sigh. “Fine,” he said after a moment. “Sammy? Anything we could do? And please don’t start about museums or any of that shit.”

The younger Winchester looked at the two men for a moment, disdain in his eyes. Then he sighed as well and threw his hands up. “Fine! Fine. I’ll take you along to one of my campaigns. Happy now?” Cas grinned lazily, making Dean’s mind go back to the Cas he met in the Apocalyptic future he was sent to by Zachariah. “Kinda, yeah,” the blue-eyed man answered, walking up to the Boy King and kissing him, though with not nearly as much possessiveness as with which he had just attacked Dean’s mouth.

Sam sighed again. “This is probably going to go horribly wrong.” His older brother walked up to him and clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t be such a downer, Sammy. After all, you’re winning, aren’t you? I’m sure having a Knight of Hell with the Mark of Cain publically announce that he is officially on your side will only help matters even more.”

The younger Winchester sighed. “Maybe. Still, I feel like things will not end well. We’re just too public, too comfortable. Things are going too well. It can’t go on like that. Not forever.” Cas stroked the taller man’s back. “Don’t worry, Sam. We’ll see when we get there.” Sam nodded. “Yeah, I guess so. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

~666~

The three men had left the hotel that same afternoon. Sam already had a location in mind. He wanted to give his speech at night, finding it more effective, and preparations took over two hours, so they were in a bit of a hurry. When they arrived though, Cas and Dean just walked off to some place behind the chosen barn for a fuck while Sam did all the work.

Two and a half hours later they were called back by the younger Winchester, with the simple message that it was time. There were symbols everywhere, and there were possibly over thirty demons crowded into one devil’s trap.

Sam smiled and opened his arms in a wide gesture. “Gentlemen! Ladies! Did I forget to mention? I have a new ally. You might have heard the rumours, and I am here to tell you they are true. I have my brother back at my side. And we are as powerful as we will ever be.”

It was actually quite impressive. Sam’s entire demeanour was familiar, but so different at the same time. He seemed like a salesman, no, a banker. Someone you were willing to give your records to, because he needed them, because he would help you with everything you needed once he had them. Someone trustworthy. But the thing is, banks have one objective. They’re not there to help people. They want money. And they will get it.

Who ever said Sam Winchester couldn’t act?

He wrapped his arm around Cas’ shoulders. “Of course, he took some luggage, but we have space for this pretty piece, don’t we?” The demons laughed, though Dean didn’t seem pleased.

Suddenly Sam’s smile vanished. “Duck,” he commanded the group. They all ducked.

Except one man who had been standing in the middle, concealed by the mass.

“Dean!” Cas tried to pry himself away from Sam, but found himself kept in place by the taller brother’s powers.

Dean had stumbled back. A bullet wouldn’t do much to him, but it was still annoying. “What the hell!?” he shouted. Crowley just waved the gun with a simple smile. “Trick I learned from you boys,” he spoke in his heavy London accent. “Put a little devil’s trap on the bullet, will do miracles.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “You realise I can just pry that out, right?” The King laughed. “You’re more than welcome to try, boy.” He pulled a small flashlight from his pocket and pointed it at the floor around the Knight. Ultraviolet light. And the smallest fucking devil’s trap a demon had ever stood in, with zero space to move his arms. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!”

Cas, realising there was nothing he could do to help Dean, decided switch objectives. “What are you doing here?” He turned his gaze to Sam. “And why are you working with him?”

The taller man smiled. “Finally asking the right questions, Cas.” He gave Crowley a nod. “Crowley and I don’t agree on many things, but one thing we have in common – we want Dean back to his old human self.”

Cas just gave him a blank stare. Where had that suddenly come from?

“I went back on the demon blood-drinking path to get an advantage over them. I tortured them for information, trying to do everything I could to find my brother, to find information on how to make him human again. Because the Mark isn’t making things any easier.”

He gave a sigh. “Crowley, could you get rid of our guests? There is a bit too much of an audience for my liking for this.” The King nodded and obliged. “Will do, Moose.”

“Anyway, as I was saying… I went too far. I got too pumped up. I got addicted, and suddenly found myself fully demonised. Bit of a shock I can tell you.” Cas huffed. Yeah, I bet it was.

Sam ignored him and continued. “I got a little side-tracked. It was all… I don’t exactly know how it happened, but I suddenly found myself caught up in the politics. Maybe it was someone mockingly calling me Boy King, triggering ideas. I don’t know. But I did realise that if I wanted to get Dean back, I would need to get close to him. And that wouldn’t happen through fuzzy love speeches. He wouldn’t just accept and trust me anymore if I wanted to go with the ‘brother’-argument. So I thought, what if I came to him as a demon? As a partner-in-crime?”

Dean spat at him. “You son of a bitch. You planned literally every single step out, didn’t you?”

Sam gave his older brother a glare that could freeze a volcano. “First of all, that’s no way to talk about our mother. Second, I believe I was talking.”

A muscle in the older brother’s jaw twitched visibly, but he kept his mouth shut, probably out of grudging curiosity to the rest of the story. “Thank you.

“The problem was, I was knee-deep in an anti-Crowley campaign. So I couldn’t exactly join his merry little gang. I needed to get you away from him. And I figured the only way I could do that was if I posed a threat to you personally.”

“That doesn’t explain why Crowley is helping you right now, though,” Cas spoke up. Sam’s head swivelled around. “Did your daddy not teach you it’s rude to interrupt those who are talking? Oh, I forgot, he abandoned you,” he sneered. The Fallen angel cocked his head a little. “I have no affection left for my Father,” he said coldly. “Well then, let’s shut you up completely.” With those words and a flick of his wrists the Boy King swiftly removed Cas’ vocal cords.

“But to answer your question, since it is an interesting issue, Crowley is helping me because we have a deal. We both need Dean human, me because that simply has been my goal for months now, Crowley because our little Knight just posed too big of a threat. Like he pointed out, no loyalty amongst demons. But yeah, I promised to let him live if he would help me humanise Dean.”

Crowley entered the barn again with a smile on his face. “Yeah, much obliged, Moose.”

“So the whole incest thing?” Dean spoke up. “That part of your master plan too?” The younger brother’s face contorted with disgust, Royal Bitchface in place. “What do you think, Dean? Really, incest? That’s just wrong.”

He stepped forward. “I needed you to trust me, to let me come close. And to examine that scar of yours.” Dean’s hand twitched, but he was too constricted to move. The taller man looked up from his brother’s shoulder. “You’ve got the blood, Crowley?”

The King stepped forward too now, a blood-filled syringe ready in his hand. “Certainly do.”

“Then let’s get this party started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, hands up if you saw that coming. Seriously, I'm curious. Reading back though, the bit with the bullet with the devil's trap doesn't really make sense. Oh well, let's just say that it's to force Dean back into the trap and the drawn devil's trap on it is just for precaution. Yay for writing! Also, Sam might be looking down on incest, but that's not me speaking. Otherwise I would probably not be writing Wincestiel right now. So if you want more of that, or just Wincest, please leave a comment or a PM, I'm up for anything! Yeah, review, request, and have a nice day :)


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nooo, my baby... Final chapter everyone! When it comes to warnings, there will be no smut. Other than that, it's pretty bad. Yeah. Don't want to spoil really. It's kind of self-explanatory though. I hope you enjoy this final bit :)

It took them hours.

Hours of injecting human blood into Dean, trying to turn him human again.

Hours of Dean holding his own, spitting venomous words at the men around him.

“You’re gonna be nothing more than a secretary, Crowley. Sam’s gonna take over, gonna shove you to the side.”

“You’re pathetic, you know that? Nothing but a let-down! Relapsing to your demon blood drinking habits. Did you miss me that much, Sammy? Saw no way out but to shoot up? Pathetic!”

“You useless piece of shit. I called you a baby in a trench coat once, didn’t I? I was wrong. You’re less than that. You’re fucking nothing. Can’t even move now, can’t even speak, no way of defending yourself. Sammy could fuck you senseless right now and you’d just lie there like a corpse.”

After that Cas zoned out. He knew more hours had passed since there was daylight seeping into the barn, but he didn’t register it. He didn’t feel hungry or thirsty, awake or tired. He was just staring while the sound of Dean’s voice swirled around him, a blur of noise.

But then the noise changed.

It became softer, more tired-sounding. Cas looked up, finding Dean staring at him, his limbs shaking with exhaustion and effort of keeping himself upright.

“Cas? Cas! I thought you were…” His eyes turned feverish from whatever thought filled his head.

“Listen to me, Cas.” The Fallen angel’s gaze wavered. “Hey! Listen to me! When this is over I’m gonna lose my shit. I can feel it.” Cas nodded to show his understanding, still having no voice. “I need you to run when that happens. If they let you go, you run. You hide. ‘Cause I don’t…”

He received another needle-full of blood in his arm. “I don’t want to take this out on you, Cas. I don’t. So you run and hide. And when this is all over, I will come and find you.”

Another dose. His whole body was shaking.

“Please…”

Another dose.

“Promise me, Cas. Please.”

Another dose.

Cas nodded.

Always. Anything for you, Dean.

The Knight closed his eyes.

When he opened them, the black orbs slowly cleared up.

Dean blinked.

No longer a demon, the devil’s trap didn’t affect him anymore, and he fell down.

For a second his body seemed to freeze up, but then he rolled over and started screaming. He screamed and screamed, his hands flying up in an attempt to scratch his own eyes out, to rip open his own throat, trying to make himself bleed out and rid the Earth of the monstrosity that he had become.

Sam cursed and pressed him against the ground with his powers, but the older Winchester still had the Mark and managed to lash out. Crowley pulled out a strangely familiar knife. It took Cas a moment to recognise it, but then he realised it was the knife the Egyptian professor had made.

“Hold him down!” the King shouted, Sam quickly speeding over to his brother and pressing him against the ground with sheer physical strength. Crowley jumped forward and plunged the knife into the handprint on Dean’s shoulder.

It was like witnessing a star explode, white light suddenly everywhere. All sound had dropped, a moment of pure nothing, just white.

Then, when the light finally receded, Cas could see it, small, enveloping the Mark. Red and white light battling, entangling, trying to wash each other out. Dean’s eyes had rolled to the back of his head, his mouth frothing, body shaking violently.

Cas wanted to move so badly, felt desperate and so powerless. Dean, please, don’t leave me Dean, live, please, don’t do this to me, I can’t do this without you! Dean! PLEASE!

He had never prayed harder in his life.

Eventually, the violent tremors became less, and the glowing light in the man’s arm died down. The Mark disappeared. And then, finally, everything was quiet and unmoving.

Too unmoving.

Why was his chest not rising?

Don’t do this to me, Dean.

Please, I can’t, I can’t…

“Dean?”

Sam stepped back, trying to give his brother some room.

Another moment of complete silence.

Then, a shuddering breath and a sound like someone was coughing up their lungs.

Thank you.

Bang!

Cas’ head snapped up, his eyes widening. Crowley was holding the Colt in his hand, the barrel smoking.

But he wasn’t aiming at Dean.

Sam gasped and grabbed his chest. “What…”

Crowley put the gun away again. “I don’t know if you were going to keep your promise, Moose. I’m sorry, I truly am. I liked you. But I just couldn’t trust you. You’re simply too big of a threat. All three of you have always been too big of a threat.”

The tall man’s body hit the ground. At the same moment, Cas could feel his vocal cords back in place, his body free again. But he couldn’t move. His muscles were locked up. He could only stare at the younger Winchester, who had a blood stain spread on his chest, the dark liquid forming a puddle underneath him, his eyes big and glassy.

The King looked down at the older Winchester, who seemed unconscious. “I don’t want to have the blood of all three of you on my hands. But you see, I don’t need to. Dean’s not going to be a problem anymore, and Cas… Well.”

He looked up and gave a small, sad smile. “It has been a pleasure, truly, it has. But this is the last you’ll see of me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to leave. Wouldn’t want to be found with you guys.”

And with those words he placed the Colt in Dean’s hand, turned around, and left the barn.

Two minutes later a SWAT-team came streaming in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! Well, epilogue still. Anyway, right now I'm uploading an Avengers fic called Vengeance Club, and I'm writing a dark Destiel and a light Cockles fic. So yay! Check out my account/profile for what I want to write and leave a request if you have something you really want to see written but are too lazy to write, or think you can't write yourself. I'd love to do it for you :) So yes, review, request, and have a nice day :)


	25. Chapter 25

Sam had been cremated. No-one had attended.

Cas hadn't spoken a word to anyone since, despite having his voice back.

Dean had taken every opportunity he got to try and cut his wrists. So far he had failed in taking his own life.

It had been approximately two months before the two men had been sentenced in court. Dean, having a big list of crimes on his head that went years back, had received the death sentence. Cas' lawyer had pleaded insanity, and the Fallen angel had been sentenced to a life in a closed institution.

They had seen each other one last time before parting. Dean had just looked at him, his eyes filled with pain, silent tears flowing down his cheeks. He seemed to be his old self again, full of self-loathing and shame and pain, so much pain.

Cas, on the other hand, was beyond fixing. No going back for him. Not ever.

For the first time since Sam's death he spoke again. It wasn't the first time he used his voice again, oh no; he had spent nights and days with screaming Dean's name, doing nothing but that, until he would cough up blood. His voice was almost completely destroyed now.

"Do you remember that time when you pleaded our equality, Dean? Do you remember? I laughed. I just laughed. Do you remember that?" Dean didn't seem to respond, but Cas could see it in his eyes – of course he remembered. How could he not? He didn't want to though. But he couldn't forget. He remembered it all. And it hurt so much.

"I want you to know why I laughed, Dean. I need you to know how I felt."

Cas stared into Dean's eyes, vivid blue meeting beautiful green. "I felt free. Completely free."

The other man started shaking his head ever so lightly. He didn't want to hear it, please let that voice stop, let him stop talking, someone, anyone…

"But it was more than that, Dean. You want to know how I felt?"

He smiled. It was such a happy smile. As if the sun had broken through heavy clouds.

"For the first time in centuries, maybe even in my life – I felt pure."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your kind words and support all the way through. I love you all for reading and sticking with me to the bitter end! (And remember, if you're curious about any future updates, you can subscribe to my account Ohdarlingifonlyyouknew :) )


End file.
